Wolf Entertainment
by inalim
Summary: Stiles goes to NYU and lives with Scott and Isaac. They're all working at a strip club to help pay the bills. One day, Stiles is walking to class when he accidently bumps into the famous action movie star Derek Hale and somehow manages to leave an impression. STEREK. Rated M for explicit m/m content.
1. Usual afternoon

**AN: All righty, this is my first fanfiction EVER. Any comments, thoughts, ideas, constructive criticism would be very much appreciated. English is not my mother language, so if you find any mistakes do let me know (if you feel like it!).**

 **Warning: There's some smut here already, so if this is not your thing, you've been warned!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or any of the characters here portrayed.**

* * *

Stiles woke up with the sun on his face, getting through a small opening on his room's window and a tent on his boxers shorts. He checked his phone for the time: 2:08 pm. It had been a long night. Fun, but tiresome. Thursdays were two-beers-for-the-cost-of-one-night, so the club would always get crowded, which meant barely any time for breathing while trying to get everyone's drinks to them as fast as he can on the counter.

But right now he really needed to pee and that 'afternoon wood' wasn't going to help at all. He got up from his bed and thanked God his only class that day was from 4 til 6pm and from there he'd grab a bite with his buddies Scott and Isaac and then head straight to the club, which opened at 9pm. His very respectable place of work, the Lupita's Sanctuary, was one of the many strip clubs in New York.

He turned on the TV on his way to the bathroom and managed to pee, even with a little discomfort from his hard on. Both Isaac and Scott had already left for their classes which started relatively early – unlike Stiles' – at 2pm. They all met at their hometown and then got into NYU together. Problem is, their parents couldn't afford everything on their own. To pay for university alone cost them a completely outrageous amount of money already, plus, there was food, house bills, rent…

Stiles' dad had a savings account for college opened when his mother was still alive, but the money in there was just enough to pay for the university fee. It wasn't enough to pay for all those extra basic needs that come with living somewhere other than your parents' house.

Scott's mom was being able to pay for it only because his dad helped put in the extra bit that was missing. Isaac, on the other hand, could afford it with the money from his sold house back in Beacon Hills. His parents were dead and he had no reason to keep it, it only reminded him of the years of abuse his father got him through.

So that's how the three of them found themselves working at a strip club to help pay the bills and then get a better life after college. Lupita had offered all three of them a stripping position if they showed her they could dance, but Stiles didn't even want to try it, ignoring the protests from his friends when he asked to be a barman instead.

"Dude, come on, we dance together all the time, you're just as good as we are. If we can do it, so can you!" Scott had said a bit frustrated. Stiles smiled at his friend's encouragement words.

"I know I can dance, guys," he answered before Isaac got the chance to add something to that, "I just don't think I can do it in front of, I don't, a hundred people, while wearing a thong. That's a bit too much, thank you very much. But I know you guys will do great."

He was the most hyperactive of the three of them, yes, but also the most self-conscious with his body. While Isaac and Scott were a bit more built, Stiles was just leaner and, well, not built. Not to mention his skinny legs. He just didn't think he would appeal in any way to the clientele of Lupita's, unlike his friends. So the extravagant woman agreed that he could be the barman but reminded him that he'd still be wearing what she called the SBU: the sexy barman uniform, which much to his dismay was composed of tight jeans and black suspenders.

"Great. Still better than a thong, though."

Coming back from the bathroom Stiles got to the kitchen while paying mild attention to what was on TV, a rerun of last night's interview. Something about this actor who was in town promoting his new action movie.

Stiles gulped a glass of water and tried really hard not to think about his cock begging for attention inside his boxers. He didn't have time for that now, he had to eat and get ready for class and he liked to take his time masturbating, so he decided to just let it calm down by itself. He made himself two tuna, tomato and mayo sandwiches and sit down on the couch to eat it.

He realized he actually knew that guy on TV. Not like he'd met him, but like, knew who he was. He'd seen all of his action movies. Derek Hale. In ten minutes he was done eating, transfixed by the interview Derek was giving. He wore a simple white t-shirt, and black jeans, which Stiles thought suited him really well. Who was he kidding, it fit him perfectly. You could see his abs and biceps and triceps all bulging out. Damn, he was hot.

He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he'd finished. Maybe it was his hard on clouding his thoughts. He checked the time again: 2:43 pm. Hm. Maybe he would have time to masturbate after all.

He put his hand inside the boxers, not bothering to take it off, and pulled his cock out. Focusing on the sound of the grave voice coming from Derek on TV, he started moving his hand up and down his shaft at a slow pace.

Derek was a pretty serious guy from the looks of it. He was all business, no pleasure. Just kept talking about the movie and answering the questions that were made, rarely smiled, which made him all the more interesting to Stiles who had this domination kink. He started to feel his back already relaxing against the sofa.

With his other hand he was massaging and cupping his balls and couldn't stop a moan from escaping his lips as the program on tv put on Derek's movie trailer. He always looked tough and dead on invincible throughout the whole thing, but what really got Stiles going was when he eventually appeared coming out of the shower with a towel hanging low around his hips. That v-line…

"Fuck, I would definitely let you fuck me."

Stiles had already quickened the pace and was now panting, licking and biting his lower lip, thinking about Derek's delicious body and how good it would feel pressed against his own. The trailer now showed Derek on top of some woman as they had passionate sex and the look on her face told Stiles she was having the best sex of her life.

He wished _he_ was the one having the best sex of his life with Derek. At this point he could feel some precum oozing out the tip of his cock. And then the trailer cut to this view from the ceiling that showed Derek's back on top of her, holding her wrists down on each side of her body, his ass unfortunately covered by the sheets, thrusting hard and slow, as if nothing mattered more on his world than pleasuring that woman.

This scene lasted just about 10 seconds and it was all Stiles needed to slip over the edge. He started humming in time with his panting and immediately felt his muscles tighten up and the next thing he knows, he's coming all over his stomach and right hand, moaning loudly. A bit of cum even flew all the way to his chest. Breathing deeply now as the waves of pleasure rode off, he slowed his pace until he stopped altogether.

He took a moment to appreciate the nice feeling of relaxation that came afterwards, still massaging his balls. He wondered how it was possible that some people just didn't masturbate at all…

"That's it, don't miss my new movie coming out this Saturday on theaters."

He heard Derek's not very entertained voice and then the program went into commercial. When he finally decided he'd enjoyed that feeling long enough, he got up still a little weak in the knees and with both hands tried to make sure his cum didn't drip anywhere on his way to the bathroom. He got some toilet paper wet on the sink and cleaned himself with it.

Considering he'd already taken a shower before going to bed after work last night, he decided against taking a shower before class, but at least brushed his teeth. It was already 3:10 pm so he got dressed real quick, packed his work clothes in his backpack and walked out of the apartment.

They didn't live that far away from campus, so he would always walk to class. Today was neither a hot nor a cold day. It was just perfect temperature to be outside. He had on his old blue jeans, a red plain tee and a plaid grey and brown button down over it. He was humming My Girl, by The Temptations under his breath, singing the lyrics inside his head 'I've got sunshine on a clooooudy daaay…' He turned a corner and all of a sudden he was falling back on his butt.

"Ouch."

When he looked up, he saw the cause of his fall was a man, who just like him, was turning the corner coming from the opposite direction. Unlike him, though, the man barely bulged with the impact. He had a phone pressed to his ear, talking to someone.

"I'll have to call you back, Peter." Stiles heard him say. That voice, though…

He offered his hand to help Stiles up and that's when he realized who that man was. Derek Hale. In flesh and bone. And ripped, beautiful muscles. It took Stiles a couple of seconds to react to the helping hand. This couldn't be happening. He had just beaten his meat off to the guy on TV and now here he was, holding his hand and apologizing.

"I apologize. I got distracted on the phone and didn't hear you coming from the other way. Are you ok?"

He looked a bit pissed and confused. Stiles didn't want to be one of those people who freaks out when they randomly see someone famous on the streets, so he decided not to make a big deal out of this. It's not like he was a big fan of this guy, he just wanted his naked body on his bed. Since there was absolutely no way that was happening any time soon, Stiles chose to just act cool and try not to embarass himself (or give away his afternoon fantasy envolving the actor's image).

"Y-yeah, yeah. Are you? Ok, I mean? I didn't see you coming either. Sorry, dude." He answered a bit nervously, heart beating faster, tapping the back of his pants where he'd fallen on to clean it.

"I'm fine." Derek answered, flaring his nostrils for half a second and looking confused for another full second before his expression changed into a blank mask.

"Ok. Good. I-I'm glad. Well, I gotta get going to… class. You're obviously not hurt since you barely moved when we… bumped into each other, so… I'm gonna… go. Have a good day, Derek." Stiles blabbered and kept walking his way.

'Have a good day, Derek? _Have a good day,_ _ **Derek**_? What the fuck was I thinking? Now he knows I know who he is! But… is that really that big of deal? If he knows I know? It's perfectly normal to know who he is, everyone knows who he is. Oh, fuck it. Just keep walking, Stiles.' Stiles yelled at himself in his head, groaning a little at his frustration, feeling utterly confused to say the least.

He wasn't the only one.

* * *

 **AN: I know it's not that long, but bear with me! Next chapter I'll make it up for this :)**

 **Cheers.**


	2. Usual work night

**Well, hello fellow Sterek shippers! I'm soooooooooo glad for the follows and favorites you've given this fic! For a moment there I thought that maybe that was TOO graphic for a first chapter and everyone would be offended by it and no one would read it! Hahaha thank you, thank you, thank you! Let's get this ship going, then.**

 **And thank you for the guest who reviewed saying I should keep going! I most definitely will. And you should keep reading :)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own teen wolf.**

* * *

Derek stood there trying to process whatever it was that had just happened. He immediately felt his brows furrowing (cause that's just what they do when he's thinking hard, it's almost like they have a life of their own) as he replayed the whole scene in his head. He was so focused on the phone, refusing to meet his uncle at a strip club (of all places!) tonight that he didn't even realize his wolf senses going off at the back of his head letting him know someone was coming from the other side of the freaking corner. Until it was too late, that is.

The boy sprawled on the sidewalk seemed just as surprised as he was, but then again, he was only human. 'Way to go, Derek.' he slapped himself mentally, 'Don't even pretend you're one of them, just act like a fucking wall every time you bump into someone, of course no one will find that weird at all.' But well, it actually _was_ the first time in his life he had ever accidentally bumped into a human being. His wolf senses had never let that happen before. Damn you, Peter.

A girl passed by eyeing him curiously and that's when he realized he was still standing at the exact same place he'd stopped after bumping into the boy. He started walking again to where he'd parked his car as he pulled his sunglasses on to try to avoid anyone noticing who he was.

When his hands got closer to his face he realized that his right hand, the one he'd helped the guy up with, now smelled of that guy's semen, which by the way was all over him. It was clear he had just recently masturbated and hadn't washed properly afterwards. Of course, a normal human wouldn't be able to smell it after washing it with just water, because their olfactory system isn't as developed. But Derek could.

He got inside his car and made no movement to turn it on, still thinking about the recent events. When their bodies touched at the corner it was hard not to be intoxicated by the horny scent left on the boy's body. If he was being honest he was just jealous that the guy had had the time to jerk off. He, on the other hand, had been woken up that morning by his little sister calling at his hotel room complaining that he was already late to meet her at her house for brunch.

"If you're not here in 20 minutes I'll upload the pictures uncle Peter sent me from New Year's Eve where he walked in on your little threesome to the internet."

Yeap. No time to masturbate. No time to masturbate at all. Why would she even keep those pictures? He was her brother for wolf's sake. Gross.

Another thing that was gross was his hand. Now, closed inside his car all he could smell was the guy's semen, of course. The inside of his car just smelled like himself, so it basically smelled like nothing because Derek was more than used to his own scent. He could almost distinguish all the little nuances of sourness, bitterness and saltiness in it, as if the guy had just come on his hand. Staring at it, he remembered what the guy had said before walking away. 'Have a good day, Derek.'

Hm. So he knew who he was. That spiked Derek's interest. That wasn't the usual reaction he got from people on the streets. Being in Hollywood was a bit of a pain in that way, because people would always know who you are and ask for a photo or an autograph, either for themselves or for someone they know. But this guy just acted like he was a commoner and kept going with his life.

Derek wished most people would do that. But you can't have everything you wish for. He took a deep breath and mentally thanked the boy for not making a big deal out of it, hoping that the universe would do its thing and get karma to repay him for his very mature actions.

At this point he actually _was_ getting intoxicated by the scent on his hand, since all of his windows were closed. He moved to open one of them but stopped midway. It was not like it was bothering him, really. The image of the boy flashed on his mind and he couldn't help but find him attractive. His moles were pretty cute. And he had nice cheekbones. He wasn't too built, or too soft. He looked good enough to eat. And cuddle.

Ok, he'd probably been sitting on his car staring at his hand for almost half an hour now, so maybe it was time to open the windows, turn on the car and head back to his hotel so he could call Peter back and talk about that stupid meeting place. And that's exactly what he did.

Except for the opening the windows part. He didn't. It kinda made him feel like a creeper, obsessing over the smell of some random guy's semen, but he blamed it on his sexual frustration for not getting his own release that morning. Who cared if he had memorized the scent by now? No one. Because no one knew it, and no one would ever find out about it. He'd never see this guy again anyway.

* * *

"Peter, what part of 'I'm not meeting you at a strip club' don't you understand?" Derek said in his most monotonous tone.

"What's wrong with that? You love strip clubs." Peter retorted.

"I know I love strip clubs, I just don't fancy going to one anytime soon with _you_. You're creepy and shameless." Derek answered and heard his uncle laugh on the other side.

"What are you talking about? I'm just not afraid of enjoying the good things in life. Besides, the owner is an old friend of our family's. She wants to meet you. And I'm your manager, so stop whining and meet me there at 11 pm. We need to talk about your next interview appointments."

Before Derek could reply he added quickly, "Don't make me use the blackmail card. Those pictures _will_ end up on the press' hands if you don't show up. I don't care about your career. Just come have fun with your uncle Peter for once in your life."

" _Fine_." Derek huffed.

"I'll text you the address." And the call ended.

He threw his back on his bed and cursed his uncle and his sister under his breath for keeping those pictures. Hell of a family he had… Cora used to be so small. He chuckled. Time had gone by too fast. This was her first year at NYU. She'd got a nice flat with two other girls near campus and seemed to be very excited about college, although Derek worried a little bit for the other girls' safety if he was being honest.

If Cora lost control and turned, it would be a mess. But she was never one to lose control that easily and she had gotten their mother's permission (as a mother and an Alpha), so... If his Alpha trusted her, so did he.

He decided to take a nap if was going to party all night long with his uncle. Because 'one does not go home on a Friday night before sunrise', as Peter would tell him the few times he'd gone out with him (against his own will, of course).

He set his alarm clock to wake him up with enough time to get ready, took off his shoes, and got comfy on his bed. He turned to his right side, bent his right arm up and rested his hand in front of his head. The scent was now a bit faint, but still there. And just like that, he slowly fell asleep.

* * *

"Dude, you're so lucky you only have one class on Fridays. I wish I only had one class on Fridays. Scratch that, I wish I had _zero_ class on Fridays." Isaac said enthusiastically as they showered at the Lupita's bathroom in the back, for employees only. There were six showers, but the three of them were the only ones there at the moment.

They went to grab a bite together after class and then headed to work as they always did. Lupita demanded that all employees always take a shower before they opened at 21:00. She would even give them this special kind of soap that was the only one they were allowed to use.

"If you use another one, I'll know." She had told them their first night of work. They hadn't dared put that to the test. Yet.

Stiles had contemplated telling his buddies about his afternoon "encounter" with Derek Hale all night. He decided this was as good a time as any. "You know, something really funny happened to me today." He started out. As he described the events to his friends he couldn't stop his blood from going southwards to his groin as he remembered how even more amazing Derek Hale looked in person, compared to on TV. Everyone noticed that not so subtle detail, obviously. Scott was the one to point it out. Honestly, the guy was shameless.

"Oh my God, you haven't had enough of Derek Hale for one day yet?" He laughed. "You got hard just by describing him to us!"

Isaac chuckled. "Yeah, dude! Seriously. I'm done here so I'll just give you some privacy so you can take care of that." He got his towel and headed to the other room to get dressed. Scott followed him immediately with a "Don't take too long, I know how you like to enjoy your solo parties a little too much. It's almost opening time."

"I'll be quick!" Stiles replied, hearing a faraway sarcastic "right" from his friend.

"Damn you and your hot motherfucking body, Derek fucking Hale." Stiles told himself in a low voice as he started moving his left hand at a moderate pace over his hard on. He turned to face the wall and closed his eyes, placing his right hand on the wall for support. Yes, he could jerk off with both hands, something he took much proud in. He was extraordinary like that. The water was warm and Stiles appreciated the feeling of it against his back.

All he could think about was Derek. His firm hand around Stiles'. What would it feel like if it was that hand around his cock right now? His strong arms, flexing when he pulled Stiles up. They could be on either side of him, holding him in place. He hadn't realized he had moved his head forward and now his forehead was against the wall for support. The hot water hitting his neck could be Derek's plush lips kissing and nibbling at it.

"Shit." Stiles was now moving at a frantic pace, concentrating mostly on the head of his cock, where he was most sensitive.

He let out a muffled groan, trying not to get too much attention in case anyone was in the room close by. He imagined that the water sliding down his back and all the way to his ass was Derek's ripped torso pining him to the wall and had to tilt his ass up, arching his back a little bit. That gave the water some space to slide down in between his ass cheeks, massaging his hole with its speed.

He gasped at that subtle sensation and couldn't refrain from buckling his hips forward as his orgasm hit him. But with the movement he lost the sensation of the hot water slipping past his hole, so he threw his right hand back and opened his ass cheeks once more to get the water back through before the last delicious wave hit him.

Panting, Stiles' knees were now jelly and not being able to support his own weight he fell down on them. He placed his forehead on the wall again for support, and realized, too tired to care, that his head was now on the same spot his cum had landed. "Shit." When his breathing started to slow down, he managed to get up and let the water hit his face to get it out. He then splashed some onto the wall to clean it, and turned the water off sighing.

He heard Scott coming from the other room yelling something like "It's almost opening time, dude, hurry up!" and headed there to get changed.

* * *

"Get your ass out of that changing room, Stilinski, you have a bar to tend to!" Lupita suddenly popped at the door screaming at him and disappeared just as quickly. For a woman that tall, wearing a black power wig (which Stiles noticed went perfectly with her darker skin color), with that many accessories around her arms and neck, and those heels, she sure could move fast. Stiles loved the woman and her extravagant nature. She was just the coolest drag queen he'd ever met.

"Coming!" Stiles answered as he ran out the room straight to his usual place behind the counter.

"Busy day, Stilinski? You're 15 minutes late." Liam asked, smirking. He was one of the other bartenders and by the look on his face, apparently he knew exactly why Stiles had taken so long. He couldn't help the blush that spread on his cheeks. Of course his friends had already told half of the staff about his hard on during shower.

"Liam… Rocking those suspenders as always." Stiles replied, an overly seductive tone to his voice as he smirked back at the boy. Just like Stiles, he was a bit self-conscious about his body and couldn't help but get embarrassed whenever someone reminded him he wasn't wearing a shirt. They had bonded over that fact ever since Stiles had started working there.

Of course in Stiles mind he had no reason to be embarrassed. He was just overly worried about being too short than anything else, but Stiles still thought he was an attractive person, although he would never believe him whenever Stiles told him that.

"So that's what I get for covering for you." Liam stared with a halfhearted angry face at Stiles, while serving some costumers.

"Don't worry, love, I'll just get my man Boyd here to do it for me next time." Stiles said jokingly as he winked at the big guy to his right. Boyd, on the other hand, was really tall. He just wasn't as tall as Lupita, but she had always 8 inches heels on, so he guessed that had to be hard to top. Boyd just chuckled at that, shaking his head as if to say 'you're hopeless' and kept on making someone their drink.

"Oy! Less talk, more booze serving." Danny yelled from his far corner at the bar. Stiles just grinned at him and finally started serving some costumers.

* * *

Sexy back by Justin Timberlake was blasting on the club's speakers as Stiles watched his friends at the poles swinging their hips and looking incredibly hot to anyone's eyes. He could see by the way the guys around them were cheering and throwing dollar bills their way. He actually felt proud of them. He didn't care about the taboo involved in being a stripper. That was just as required a job as any. _And_ it paid well.

All the dancers would take turns at dancing for a while and walking around, teasingly offering lap dances and private strip shows - which took place at one of the 4 rooms the sanctuary had available specifically for that purpose. And before his friends started stripping, Stiles thought bartenders got good tips. Then he realized bartenders just got a reasonable amount of tips. Stripping and dancing in a sexualized manner got good tips. Who knows? Maybe someday.

Tonight was a busy night as Fridays usually were. But for some reason, Stiles was getting a lot of attention from the costumers. Some of them would just sit there on the stools and stare at him while they drank. Others would bend over the counter to order and would just stay in that position for an exaggerated amount of time, while Stiles prepared their drinks.

This one guy, who spoke oddly quietly for someone at a strip club, had forced Stiles to get closer and closer to understand what he was saying and when he did, he actually held his head while whispering on his ear that he would like a Sex On The Beach.

He was almost sure that he even _sniffed_ him. Seriously, who does that? Did he smell bad or something? Or maybe he smelled good? Something very weird was happening. But all Liam, Boyd and Danny would do was laugh everytime another costumer acted like a creeper around him. Great friends he had!

"When you find my lifeless body in a ditch tomorrow morning, you'll be sorry for not taking this seriously. Dude, for all I know, any of these guys could be potential serial killers looking for their next victim! That guy that sniffed me right now? He could be like that guy in that Perfume novel that just goes around killing redhead girls to try and steal their smell! I'm starting to freak out." Boyd just stared at him.

"Except that you're not a redhead girl and that people with that inhumane sense of smell don't exist, Stiles."

"Yeah, man, relax and just enjoy the tips, cause from what I've seen so far, you're almost making as much money as the dancers." Danny popped in.

"And you didn't even have to shake that booty! It can't get any better than that." Liam added laughing.

Stiles rolled his eyes and served yet another enthusiastic costumer that was now having his third drink, trying to act like nothing strange was going on and just do his job, when he saw Lupita walking at a man near the entrance, arms slightly raised in a position that mirrored his, both anticipating a hug. They hugged and chatted playfully as they walked to "the special table" as he liked to call it.

The special table was this table put out specifically for the nights when they had a special guest. They were always very good friends of Lupita's, and boy, were they treated well. This table was never there for regular nights.

First of all, it was put right in the middle in between all four poles they had (other than the ones on stage that were used for the midnight performances) meaning whoever sat there just had a 360º view of the very best booties they had for show. Secondly, it was slightly bigger and had comfortable reclining leather chairs which Stiles had always wanted to try out. Very creatively, Stiles had called them "the special chairs".

Lupita always seated with them, like the great hostess she was, and tonight there were three of these special chairs placed around the special table. And last but not least, they would get a waiter just for themselves. To be honest, Stiles hadn't really given it much thought tonight, as he had been late for work and had so many costumers hovering over him, but he was always curious to see who the special guests were.

And then it dawned on him: they always alternated when there were special guests and tonight 'Crap.' was Stiles' night. 'Great. Now I get to walk up and down the club like the piece of meat I apparently am tonight.' And just as he finished that thought, Liam came up to him to tell him Lupita was requesting the special table service.

"It's your turn, dude."

He considered asking him to cover for him just today, but didn't think it would be fair since he had already done that at the beginning of their shift. And tips weren't as good when you were serving one table exclusively the whole night, obviously.

"Damn it! Fine. I'm coming." He headed out from behind the counter. 'Right when everyone's acting like I'm a fucking bitch in heat, I need to walk in the middle of all these men acting like freaking dogs.' Yes, he was starting to freak out. Again.

'One. Two. Three. Four.' Without realizing it, he started counting the amount of heads turning as he passed. 'Seven. Eight.' His stiff muscles started losing up a tiny bit. 'OK, I'm still alive and if I'm going to be dying in the next four hours, I think I deserve to savor the fact that being ogled at does feel good.' He told himself.

By the time he had gotten to the special table he had reached 23. Twenty three people. Wow. He was never really a guy to attract much attention before, and had definitely gotten used to it by now. But now that he was starting to experience the other side, the hot people's side, he could see the appeal in being the center of attention. It _was_ kind of a self-esteem booster. That is, _if_ people were looking at him for his physical traits. 'You're working, Stiles. Focus!' he told himself.

"What can I get you, my queen?" He spoke in a theatrical manner. Lupita smiled at the boy.

"Stiles, this is one of our very special guests tonight, Mr. Hale. We'll be treating him very well. Mr. Hale," she continued, now turning to him, "Stiles will be our exclusive barman and waiter tonight. Get a good look at that pretty face, cause whatever you feel like drinking, you ask him for it and your wish is his command."

"Hale?" Stiles said at a slightly high pitched voice and shot his wide eyes at the guest.

"Very nice to meet you, Stiles." Mr. Hale offered him his left hand. "My own personal barman, huh? I have to say, I'm not a big fan of sharing. You'll have to get Derek another one, cause this one's taken." Stiles went to shake his hand now echoing the name 'Derek' inside his mind and felt his heart skip a beat as Mr. Hale, instead of shaking it, brought it to his lips and sighed.

"I would love a taste of whatever it was you were preparing with this beautiful hand of yours not long ago." He said as he stared into Stiles' eyes, a playful smirk on his face. And with that, Mr. Hale let Stiles' frozen hand go.

* * *

 **AN: I'm suuuuper excited about writing the part where Derek finally gets there hahaha. Sorry if I made you wait, just had the craziest weekend at Oktoberfest, but really wanted to get this out for you guys as soon as possible! Cheers.**


	3. Usual work night II

**Guys, I realize now I haven't been specifying whose POV it is whenever I switch them from Stiles to Derek and vice versa. Is it confusing to understand when they change? Let me know if it is, so I'll add them!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own TW.**

* * *

Lupita chuckled and raised a perfectly designed eyebrow. "Peter, please. He's the barman, if you want some more excitement I have plenty of boys who feel a lot more comfortable being leered at than Stiles here."

"I'm sorry, Lupi, you know how I love the shy ones. I'll try to behave." Peter said trying to keep a serious face, but not really. Lupita turned her attention to Stiles, who was only now getting back to a considered normal position. He wasn't expecting that. But then again, who expects a very attractive man to hold your hand and kiss it as if you're a noble lady in a 50's movie, when in real life you're a man and you live in the 21st century? Right. And what of this Hale "family" meeting? At _his_ place of work!

"Come on, Stiles, the man is thirsty, we don't wanna make him wait. Chop, chop." He heard Lupita's voice and snapped out of his staring at yet another fine male specimen from the Hale family.

"Indeed, I am thirsty right now. I can't wait for you to come… with my drink." Stiles gulped, telling himself that brief pause in the middle of Peter's speech was just a product of his nervous imagination.

He saw Peter smile from the corner of his eyes as he turned to go back to the bar and get him his drink. 'Seriously, what kind of magic is this?' If Stiles were a meme right now, he would be the "why u so …?" and he'd have the words "Hale men, why u so hot?" written around him. And how the hell was he supposed to face Derek tonight? He'd masturbated to the guy not once, but twice in the last 24 hours!

He couldn't help but do a double facepalm. Ok, but it's not like the guy could tell just by looking at him, right? 'Chill, Stiles.' He thought as he passed by a very dedicated Ethan giving some costumer a lap dance.

'What was it he'd said he wanted?' He thought when he realized he was already back behind the counter looking up at the alcohol filled shelves. 'The last thing I had prepared with my beautiful hands?' He rolled his eyes as he felt his face blush. 'Well, what I prepared last was a Jack Daniels on the rocks for creepy stool guy.'

"I gotta say, I'm kinda glad you won't be back here for tonight." Danny told him jokingly, grabbing a gin bottle from one of the shelves. "We're finally getting an acceptable amount of tips." Stiles grinned at the boy. "I can't help it if I'm just the greatest barman to have ever lived!" He told Danny, as the boy took the bottle with him.

Stiles poured the requested drink and was about to start his way back to the special table when somebody grabbed his arm. He froze briskly and looked to his side. The creepy sniffing costumer was staring at him with a glint on his eyes.

"A Manhattan, please."

Stiles calmly freed his arm and reluctantly tried to act professional to not start an argument with a costumer about boundaries. "Sure, sir, coming right up. Liam!" He yelled to the barman closest to him. "A Manhattan to this kind sir, please." And gave him a look that meant he found the guy anything but kind.

Liam quickly came to his rescue with an already prepared drink on his hand. "There you go, sir." Thank God. Stiles never looked back, taking advantage of the time it took the creeper to get his wallet and pay for the drink, managing to get on his way to the special table. Nine Inch Nails' Closer started playing.

'Shit.' While he was at the bar, the other Hale guest had arrived. _The_ Hale guest. Derek. Fucking. Hale. From his profile, Stiles could see he had the most bored expression on his face and impulsively bit his lip as he saw the outline of some hard, beautiful muscles through Derek's black t-shirt. Peter, on the other hand, seemed like he was having the time of his life.

He was halfway there and couldn't stop the butterflies in his stomach, but couldn't stop walking either. Was Derek going to recognize him? Would he say something? Would he ignore him? _Would he think he was a stalker?!_ 'Oh my God, this is going to...'

He stopped dead. Actually, a hand around his neck had stopped him. It didn't hurt him, it was just a bit restraining, but he still stopped breathing altogether out of instinct.

Stiles shivered as he felt whoever it was behind him put their free hand on his naked waist and move his body too close to his. Too close as in 'I-can-feel-your-hard-on-pressing-against-my-butt-too-close'. He barely had the time to try to recognize who the hand belonged to, when suddenly another hand was holding his wrist and then another was on his shoulder.

Faster than he'd realized, two other people were there. Why was everyone so touchy feely with him tonight?!

 _"_ _Je_ …"

Stiles gaped. The person in front of him was Derek Hale.

"…s _us_."

 _Derek_ was the one holding his wrist. He almost dropped the glass he had on that same hand and he was pretty sure his eyes were as wide as they could be. Derek was also holding the forearm connecting to the hand Stiles still had around his neck.

While the hand around his wrist was comforting and gentle, he could see from his restricted vision that the other one was not, if his flexed muscles and mildly bulging veins were any indication.

"You're not breathing." He heard Derek state. He let out the breath he had totally forgotten he was holding and pulled another one in. So that's why he was starting to feel a bit light headed! Yeah… and not because _Derek Hale_ was touching him and looking almost… 'was that relieve?' now that Stiles was trying to consciously breathe normally.

"Let the boy go, Deucalion." Came a familiar voice from Stiles' right. It was Ethan's, and now that he wasn't completely focused on Derek, he realized Ethan was the owner of the hand on his shoulder. The twins, Ethan and Aiden worked double as dancers and bouncers at the club. They were business partners with Lupita, as a part of the club's share was theirs.

From Stiles' still restricted vision (not that he wanted to look anywhere but at Derek), he can see Derek looking like he's almost about to snarl at this Deucalion man.

"Enough, all of you." Lupita says from behind Derek. Stiles has no idea when the woman got there, but it's not like he has much of a clear vision with Derek standing right in front of him. "You're ruining everyone's mood. Look at the scene you've made, Deucalion." She tells him like she's lecturing a child, a serious look on her face.

"I'm so sorry, Lupi." Comes a hoarse voice close to Stiles' ear, and he can tell the man is smiling. He's so close Stiles can even hear the man gulp through the loud music. The hold on Stiles' neck starts to slowly loosen up but the long intake of breath he takes before letting go completely doesn't go unnoticed by anyone.

Three tense seconds go by before Derek releases the man's forearm.

Lupita quickly got in between them, Ethan right by her side. "This is a strip club, Deucalion, not a brothel."

Now that Stiles was free, he moved to Derek's side and could finally take a look at the man. He recognized him as the creeper who had just held his arm by the bar, the same who had also sniffed him earlier that night. Stiles knew he should be freaking out right now. He had been mostly disrespected, nearly molested and, possibly, would have been raped eventually!

But Derek's hand still soothingly wrapped around his wrist just made him feel safe. But they barely knew each other. He looked down at where their skins touched. This meant he had no reason to have come to his rescue. Then… 'why did he?'

He discreetly shot a look at his face. He showed no sign of acknowledging Stiles standing beside him, or the hold he still had on his wrist. He was intently looking at Deucalion's direction, who was now having a whispered conversation with Lupita and Ethan. They were standing really close together.

Stiles tried, but couldn't hear what they were saying, with the music still going on in the club. They had moved farther away from the two of them so he was pretty sure Derek shouldn't be able to hear them either.

No one seemed agitated. Deucalion, if anything, looked apologetic. Ethan was saying something to Lupita, who had her back to Stiles, but seemed to be nodding. He was about to go over there to try to understand what was going on, when someone called his name.

"Stiles?" He heard Scott's voice coming his way. He had a worried expression on his face. "Dude, what happened?" Isaac was right behind him. Unfortunately, Derek immediately let go of Stiles' wrist at the sound of his name and seemed to move the tiniest bit away as a reflex.

"I'll be fine, guys, don't worry." He waved his hand and managed a half smile.

"He will indeed, boys." Lupita had come over to the group alongside Ethan. Stiles saw Deucalion slowly walking away from behind them, heading towards the exit. He took a deep breath.

"Deucalion apologized for the trouble." She continued. "He seemed rather intoxicated, so I'm letting it go this time. I think it would do you some good to take a break. Maybe take another shower, it'll relax you… you look rather pale." He didn't find it in him to disagree with her. It would be nice to go someplace quieter for a while to digest everything that happened.

She then looked at Scott and Isaac. "You should go back to work. I see a lot of men around us in need of some entertainment." She wriggled her eyebrows. They didn't look too pleased to leave Stiles, but before they could protest, he added. "Seriously, guys. Go. We'll talk on the way home."

He gave them what he thought was a reassuring smile.

"Fine." They caved. "But if you need anything, _anything_ at all, we're here, ok?" Scott said. At that, Stiles felt a bubbly feeling inside of him.

He realized right then how fortunate he was for having people care for him this much. He genuinely smiled and was about to hug his friends when three hands shot to his chest, stopping him.

'What the fuck?'

The bubbly feeling was replaced with one of confusion. Lupita, Ethan _and_ Derek were the ones holding him in place. Lupita, for some unexplainable reason, chuckled. "You really should take a shower _now_ , Stiles." Ethan said.

He looked like was stifling a laugh. Derek was the only one who didn't seem to find this funny and was also the first to get his hand off of Stiles' chest. 'Why is he still here, really?!' Not that he was complaining, but he just felt like he had just embarrassed himself in front of this gorgeous man, _again_. Only this time, he didn't even know why.

"What, I can't hug my friends now? Why's that so funny?" He felt his face blush a little. Were they laughing at him? Scott and Isaac looked just as lost as he felt.

"It's nothing, Stiles." Lupita looked lovingly at the boy. He believed she genuinely cared for him too, and decided not to push it for now. "Come on, you two, back to work. The show must go on." She told his friends, who reluctantly agreed. They shot Stiles an apologetic look and started to walk away. Many costumers around them were still looking at the group, but Lupita seemed unconcerned.

"And I have some guests I have been neglecting. For which I need to apologize, Mr. Hale."

"Please, call me Derek." He told her. "And you have nothing to apologize for, of course. If anything, I'm pretty sure my uncle has been rather enjoying the show." Stiles turned to look at Peter, along with everyone else. He wasn't surprised when he saw an amused look on his face, looking at their direction.

They weren't that close to the special table, though, so Stiles wondered why he looked like he was in on everything that was going on, if he couldn't have possibly heard anything. He looked around and saw many costumers had the same look as Peter's. 'What's going on with Lupita's clientele tonight?! They're acting weirder than ever.'

"Come on, Stiles, I'll walk you to the back." Ethan told him, eyes slightly slitted, looking around too.

"It's Ethan, right?" Derek asked. Ethan looked at him and nodded. "I understand you also work here?" Ethan nodded again and shot a quick glance at Lupita before returning his attention to Derek. "I can accompany… the boy." He paused. "To the back, that is. So you don't have to miss any more work."

'Sorry, _what_?! Not only has Derek come to my rescue, he now wants to accompany me to the back so that I can shower? Is this real life?' Stiles was blushing hard now, and he was glad no one was paying him any attention.

Ethan looked at Lupita, who lifted an eyebrow at Derek. She closed the distance between them, towering over the man just so she could look down at him. "And why should I trust you with him, Derek?"

Stiles furrowed his brows. "Trust him with me? Lupi, I love you for caring so much about me, but really, I'm totally ok now, it's not like I'm some damsel in distress who needs to be saved and protected for all eternity, honestly, no one needs to accompany me to the back, _I_ don't need to go the back, I'm just going because you've insisted I take a shower again, but I've already taken a shower when I got here and I swear I used the same soap you always give us so I don't get what the problem is."

He was totally out of breath by the time he'd finished babbling. No one seemed to have listened to anything he'd said, though. Derek just calmly answered her.

"Because I never wanted to be here in the first place. I would gladly appreciate some time away from my uncle, if you haven't noticed. And I believe after this small disruption, you could use Ethan working as soon as possible to make up for the lost time he was protecting the boy and not making any money."

"Derek, I do believe you are a nice boy. But you're wrong if you believe I care more about money than for my employee's safety." Lupita told him honestly.

"Again, no need for protection here. I'm completely fine, really! Why would I need to shower again? And why can't I just go on my own?!" Stiles waved an arm in the sky, trying to get their attention. He still had the glass with Peter's drink on his hand (although now the ice had completely melted), so he kept that arm still. It worked, because Lupita turned to him.

"Stiles, I'm sure you might have some questions I would be glad to answer to the best of my abilities later. But right now, trust me when I say you should shower thoroughly again, and Derek or Ethan should accompany you to the back. Ok?"

Stiles took a deep breath. The woman had no reason to lie to him.

"I really should go back to work, Lupi." Ethan told her. "I'm sure Derek wouldn't hurt him. He has a lot to lose if he does anything wrong and that ends up going public." He smiled menacingly at Derek. "He _is_ a worldwide famous actor, after all. Am I right?" Hurt him? Why would Derek fucking Hale want to hurt Stiles? The list of questions he needed answers to were growing exponentially.

Before Derek could say anything, Lupita intervened. "He has a point. You can go."

Stiles was mildly exasperated and highly frustrated right now, because firstly, no one would explain anything to him. And secondly, they would talk about him like he wasn't ever there. He might as well not be. He didn't even wait for anyone to say anything else. He just turned around and started walking. 'Fuck this.'

He went straight to Peter's table and put the glass with the now ruined drink down. "Sorry about the wait, Mr. Hale. You should probably ask Lupita for another drink, the ice's completely melted by now."

Peter grinned at him. "Please Stiles, call me Peter. No worries about the drink, dear, I was actually hoping to get something hot from the beginning, anyways." Derek reached them and cleared his throat.

Stiles ignored him and was about to answer when someone beat him to it. "I don't believe we serve any hot beverages here, Peter." Lupita arrived answering for him, and took her seat next to Peter.

"That's a shame, Lupi, because I would definitely pay for it if you did... and by the look on my nephew's face, I can say without a doubt he would too." Stiles was pretty sure he was missing something, but he couldn't quite put a finger on what it was.

So he decided to just go shower already and get this over with. He knew if he stayed things would only start to get even more confusing. He recognized the next song as Kings of Leon's Closer. Aiden, Ethan, Scott and Isaac had taken up their places on the poles around the special table.

He liked this song. He looked up at them dancing gracefully for a second. "Ok. I'm gonna go now." So he left, not bothering to check if Derek was following him or not.

* * *

Derek was having a hard time trying to not take any deep breaths. After all, that's just a reflex. It's what people do when they need to calm down. And Derek really needed to calm down, because the smell of Stiles semen was so strong right now. It came not only from his left hand and forehead, but all the way from the showers too. And how the _fuck_ did this guy get his _own_ come on his _own_ fucking _head_?

Stiles had taken a seat at one of the benches in the changing room and was staring at him, while he was leaning against the door that led back to the club, staring back. He crossed his arms.

If he did take a deep breath, he would just inhale even more of the boys scent and that would turn him dangerously on. Maybe he should just go wait outside the door. He was here to make sure none of the wolves out there raped him, right?

Staying outside would be just as effective. Or even more, if he was being honest. He was afraid his own wolf wouldn't resist the temptation. He hated losing control, but he could understand why Deucalion did. He was clearly going through his heat period. It would have been impossible for him to control himself with the way Stiles smelled right now.

Werewolves' incredibly acute sense of smell could be a curse at times like these. When it came to the scents connected to arousal, werewolves were extremely sensitive. Because arousal was connected to the more primitive, animalistic parts of their brains, instead of the more rational, human parts of it.

"Dude, are you ok?" Stiles said. "If you don't wanna be here, then why did you offer to come in the first place?"

"I'll just wait outside if you don't want me in here." He started to move to open the door, glad for an excuse to leave.

Stiles chuckled. That wasn't the reaction Derek was expecting, so he stopped.

"Really?" Stiles said. "Do you get that a lot? Do people often tell you they don't want a hot Hollywood superstar's company?" He raised both eyebrows at Derek. "But hey, it's ok, I'm used to people not insisting on keeping _me_ company, so you can just go."

Derek blinked, speechless.

So first they bump into each other and Stiles treats him like a normal person, even though he knows who he is.

Second, they're alone in a room together; he admits to finding Derek hot but is not trying to get into his pants.

Third, he talks to him passive-aggressively and uses sarcasm, which only people from his family and close friends have used ever since he became famous.

And fourth, he doesn't seem to care if he insults Derek or not by being unappreciative of his efforts to protect him.

All things people who are not in the movie industry try to avoid doing when they know who he is. They always seem to be walking on eggs when they talk to him. But not _this_ guy.

This guy doesn't give a shit about Derek's fame and will speak his mind, no matter who's listening. 'I'm intrigued.' He thinks to himself. Derek can't stop from biting his lower lip as he turns to look at Stiles. The boy is still staring at him, waiting for a reaction.

Derek walks up to him and sits right beside him on the bench. He knows he shouldn't do what he's about to do, but Stiles is just _so_ interesting. Too interesting to waste. Yes, that's how he was going to justify this. If anything went wrong after he did what he was about to do, he would just tell himself he couldn't have helped it. He had to do it. He _had_ to.

The boy was looking at him curiously now. Derek relaxed into the bench feeling all his tense muscles loosen up and just did _the_ thing he had been restraining from doing ever since Stiles had opened the door to the changing room.

He closed his eyes and took. The. Deepest. Breath.

.

He shouldn't have done that.

* * *

 **AN: Hey guys! HELP ME OUT HERE. Do you know of any song that you would categorize as a strip tease song? :D Tell me which ones on the comments, so far I've only got 5 on my list and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna need a lot more than that for this fic... hehe. Thank you in advance!**


	4. Usual work night III

**Well, no one complained about the change of POVs, so I guess it's clear when they change! And I think I kinda suck at naming the chapters, but... oh, well. Enjoy :D**

 **Disclaimer: IDNOTW. (You know what it means!)**

* * *

He _almost_ turned right there.

As soon as the air filled Derek's lungs, he knew he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. He could feel his eyes turning a bright blue inside his closed lids. Still, he regretted nothing. He felt his pants tightening as his cock stiffened. He tilted his head back, trying to get as much of it in as possible, breathing deeply a second time.

Yes, he was getting intoxicated out of his own free will. Humans have a vast variety of drugs they can use to alter their state of conscience: alcohol, weed, LSD, opium, cocaine, MDMA. None of them work on werewolves. Their cells just work a lot faster than humans' to maintain homeostatic regulation. If they tried any of those, it would last nothing more than minutes and it would hardly be intense.

But what they have with arousal-related scents is kind of like "Viagra" for humans. But without the erectile dysfunction part. There was no such thing as a Werewolf who couldn't get it up. But for it to work, they had to allow it to work. Otherwise, male werewolves could never live among humans if they got hard everytime they smelled arousal.

Of course, when they don't allow it, it's extremely uncomfortable. Like an itch in the back of their minds that they just _cannot_ scratch. That was basically how every single werewolf at the club had been feeling tonight, Derek included.

Well, not anymore. He had scratched that itch heartily. And now he was paying the price.

He fought to keep himself from ravishing the boy and getting a handful of the source of that smell at its freshest. The effect was at its peak, he couldn't get any harder than he was now. His pants felt overly restraining and his teeth were almost morphing into each other with the strength he was gritting them.

It was taking every bit of self-control Derek had not to glue his nose to Stiles' forehead. The last thing he wanted was to freak the boy out any more than he already was. He remained in the same position and breathed deeply a third time, only this time trying to focus more on the calming effect breathing deeply should have.

He fought his way back to the rational, lucid domains of his mind. By the fourth breath he took, he was actually relaxing and coming down from his high.

He took his time righting his head and opened his eyes. He knew they were back to his dark green by now. He relaxed his hands, which had turned into fists at some point during his voluntary intoxication process without him even realizing.

He looked into Stiles' eyes.

"Do you have any idea how good you smell?" If the boy already looked embarrassed before, he almost reached a tomato shade with his blushing now.

"Wha – I…" He took a moment to wet his dry lips. "D-did you – why…" He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down. It was clear to Derek that he was completely at a loss of words and he found it more endearing than he should. He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

"What the hell just happened?" Stiles blurted out in a high pitched voice. "Did you just smell me? So there _is_ something wrong with my smell today, isn't it? I knew it! Why?! What is it? And how can you…?" He then looked at the door that led to the club. "How can they…?"

"Stiles, there's nothing wrong with your smell today." Derek said with the evenest voice he could muster. "You just… smell better than you should." He shot his eyes at Stiles forehead. "Which is why you needed to take a shower as soon as possible. Go do that already and then we can talk." 'Before I do something I might regret', he almost added.

"What is it?" Stiles asked.

"What is _what_?" Derek answered impatiently. He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position for his still restraining pants. 'Why isn't he showering yet?!' If Stiles' aim was to drive Derek mad, he was definitely succeeding.

"What is it about me that's smelling so good?" He wetted his lips. Again. 'God, stop doing that.' Derek thought as he tried to focus on something other than the boy's mouth. He considered if he should answer that or not, and what that would implicate. He deserved to know. At least to avoid it from ever happening again. He could not be so lucky next time he smelled of semen and came face to face with a werewolf in heat.

There was no nice way to say it, so he just said it. "You smell of come. On your _fucking_ forehead and on your left hand. Other than the obvious place." Derek told him trying to keep a blank expression on his face. Stiles looked away turning a deep shade of red for the third time in the last ten minutes.

'Just keep talking, Derek.' He told himself averting his eyes from the boy. It helped him concentrate on maintaining a sane state of mind, so he kept going.

"You know… let's just say most of the Lupita's regulars are _very_ sensitive to smell. That's why you all always have to shower before the start of your shift. The soap she gives you is of a special kind, developed specifically to rid your body of any strong smells from the outside and leave you with your most natural scent possible."

"And you're one of these very-sensitive-to-smell people?" He bit his lower lip, looking down. Following his gaze, Derek realized he was now looking at the bulge on his pants. Derek couldn't have hidden it even if he wanted to, so he wasn't surprised Stiles noticed. He looked into Derek's eyes, as if looking for clues to what his answer would be.

Derek just nodded.

Stiles grinned. A grin that grew into a laugh. "Oh my G…ahahaha…I'm sor…hahah… I'm sorry." Derek stared at him blankly. He cleared his throat a couple of times. "Sorry… It's just, it's funny that the smell of my come would turn you on. I don't know why…" He giggled. "And your uncle?"

Derek nodded again.

"I was right! People like the Perfume serial killer are totally real!" He said excitedly. "But then – that means when we met this afternoon, you could also smell it on me, right? Is that why you looked so lost?"

For someone who got red as easily as Stiles did, he sure as hell didn't seem embarrassed now. "Mostly, yes." Derek answered and tried to find a better position for his damn tight pants, but failed miserably. He moaned. "Can you go shower now?"

The son of a bitch just smirked at him. "Why? Is the smell of my come bothering you, Mr. Hale?" He said with a fake innocent voice and bit his lip.

Derek pursed his lips and this time didn't refrain at all when he felt the need to take a deep breath. He knew Stiles could see his nostrils flaring, but at this point, he didn't give a shit. He _needed_ to change the subject.

Looking at Stiles mischievous face, he remembered something he had been meaning to ask. "You know, I've been wondering… what could have gotten you so worked up today that you had to masturbate _twice_? That is, if you haven't masturbated any more times than I'm aware of, of course."

The transition was immediate. Stiles went from looking like the Cheshire cat to looking like a kid who had just been caught by his parents doing something naughty. That amused Derek immensely and he had to suppress a laugh.

"No one." Stiles tried to regain his composure.

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. He was the Cheshire cat now and gladly at that. "No one? I thought I'd asked a 'what', not a 'who'… so you masturbated thinking about the same person both times, huh?"

Stiles abruptly got up, face and neck going red as Derek had learned they do when he's beyond embarrassed.

"Ok, ok! Your wish is my command." The boy said theatrically. "I'm showering now. You won't be smelling any more come on me and getting your tent up, don't worry." If only he knew Derek didn't mind that at all. Stiles started walking to the shower room, his back turned to Derek, who looked appreciatively at it. Those tight pants did wonderful things for his bum when he walked.

"Wash the wall as well. You came on it, didn't you?"

Stiles stopped abruptly. "You can't really tell that just by smelling it all the way from here!" He looked at Derek, amazed.

"I can."

"I don't believe you." He stated defiantly.

"I can show you exactly where it was."

"You could just estimate from my height where the come would have landed."

"And how exactly would I guess which shower you were using?"

Stiles was thoughtful for a second. "Right. That makes sense."

Derek got up from the bench. "How about… we make things interesting?"

"I'm listening." He looked at Derek warily.

" _When_ I'm right, you tell me who you were thinking about when you jerked off today. Both times." He had to pause to smile at the red shade that had covered Stiles face. You'd think he'd have mastered the ability to control the blushing by now. "When I'm _not_ wrong, you get nothing. Because I'll be right. So no need to agree on your half of terms."

"Ha-ha. You'd think the great movie star Derek Hale would have some comedy gene in him as well. Do us all a favor: never audition for sit-coms." He said sarcastically, and added "When _I_ win, I get the right to make you one question, and no matter what it is about, you _have_ to answer honestly."

"And how would you know I'm not lying?"

He shrugged. "I guess I'll just have to trust you."

"Deal." Derek said without hesitation. Obviously there was no way he was going to be wrong. Even if Stiles had asked to make a sex tape with him and publish it on a porn site, he would have agreed. He wasn't losing this bet.

Not that making a sex tape with Stiles was a bad idea…

The friction his pants provided on his cock as he walked made him groan. Stile defiant voice was a welcome distraction.

"There you go, mister cocky brows. Where was it?" They were at the shower room. Looking at Derek, Stiles crossed his arms.

Derek smiled and turned to look at the room. There were six showers total, three on each side wall. He turned to his right and walked to the shower farthest away, the one near the opposite wall from the door. He pulled his jeans up a little before getting down and supporting his weight on his heels.

He put both hands on the wall for support, tilted his head a little to the side and sniffed the spot where the scent was most intense at the wall. Reflexively, he licked his lips. His hard on was _killing_ him. He could feel it throb, begging for attention. Just by smelling the boy's semen on a cold, hard wall.

'Imagine what it would do to me to smell it directly from his skin.' His hands were tingling to cup his cock even over his jeans, just to give it a quick rub. The sudden jolt of pleasure through his spine made him realize he actually did it. He got up abruptly before he ruined his jeans from the excess of pressure provided by his hard cock. He turned his head to Stiles and pointed at the place he had just sniffed. "This is it."

Stiles looked appalled. "Shit." He heard the boy mutter.

Stiles was turned on, and Derek sniffed it in the air, before seeing it. Now he wasn't the only one with a bulge on his pants. Realizing that Derek had noticed it, he swallowed hard. Derek just crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, half of him making sure he kept the most distance between them, the other half curious to hear what Stiles would say next.

Yes, Derek was enjoying himself way too much.

And he loved it. He smiled.

"Seriously, how did you…? That's impossible. What kind of government experiment are you? Did the experiment start when you were still an egg and they applied some super olfactory enhancement genes in your genome so that they could use you for military purposes when you grew up? You're all spies, aren't you? You're highly trained in military skills, mind reading, sensitive to smell _and_ under cover pretending to be an actor? This world is so unfair!" Stiles babbled.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a very vivid imagination?" He didn't know what else to say.

"You're not denying it!" Stiles said accusingly.

Derek laughed. "Yeah, you got it all figured out."

"Stop messing with me. You wouldn't tell me if I were right. Unless you would, because you knew no one would believe you, or me, if I told them. Ha! Clever."

"Stiles. Stop stalling. I win." Derek just cut to the chase. If Stiles wanted to believe he was a secret agent for the government that was better than having to explain to him Werewolves existed and Derek was one of them.

"Ok, your secret is safe with me. Don't worry." He said in a serious tone, but grinned.

Derek rolled his eyes.

" _Fine_ , you win. Happy?" Stiles looked defeated.

"I will be, once you tell me about that person." He answered, all the while checking out Stiles package. From the looks of it, Stiles was going to have to jerk off again before he started with the cleaning.

"Look, that's kind of a long story…" Derek could hear his heart was beating at a frantic pace. He chuckled seeing the boy was blushing yet again.

'How the fuck have I made it this long without jumping his bones yet?!' If he was being honest, he would have to jerk off too if he intended to go back out. But then _he_ would be the one smelling like come. Stiles opened his mouth to continue, but Derek interrupted.

"Look, you can tell me about it later. We both need to 'shower'." He purposefully drew the quotation marks in the air for that last word. "You need to go first. I'll wait outside and I'm gonna need to borrow your soap when you're done."

"But while I 'shower' you're gonna – um, be able to smell everything that goes on in here, right?" Stiles voice came out husky.

Derek froze. He hadn't thought this through. 'And hear. And vividly imagine. And probably violently get myself off on it. Not to mention all the while putting all my self-control abilities on the line to make sure I don't barge in and pin you to this wall and literally fuck you senseless.'

He cleared his throat, but his voice was huskier than Stiles' had been. "Yes. But if _I_ go first, when you finish 'showering' I… I'll have to go again." He couldn't stop the blush that covered his own cheeks. None of those options seemed very good ones. The first would never work. He wouldn't be able to stop himself, no matter how much he tried. The second would take up too much time. People outside would start wondering what was taking them so long.

"That would probably take too long… I'm guessing you don't want that." Stiles said. "So you – and, those people outside… got turned on because of the smell of come in a more general way, right?" He seemed to be measuring his words. "It's not like my scent is special or something… It's just a normal reflex for you crazy-smell-sensitive people? I mean, it could have been anyone's, right?"

Derek wondered where he was going with this. "Well, yes. There's really no such thing as a special scent. I guess it's the special person you associate it with that makes it special, you know?"

"So – maybe um… ok, this is _really_ embarrassing, and I will _totally_ understand if you feel disrespected, or grossed out, or just outright mad, but I'm just gonna go ahead and say it and get this over with, but hear me out before you say anything." Stiles said. "Ok?" Derek furrowed his brows, but nodded.

Stiles stopped breathing for a second. "Imasturbatedthinkingaboutyou." He blurted out, looking anywhere but at Derek. If it weren't for his wolf senses, he wouldn't have understood a word Stiles had said. But he had. And the image that flashed in his mind, of Stiles mole dotted, pale, naked body panting, as his elegant hands jerked expertly and frantically up and down his shaft, twice in one day, thinking about _him_ , had just stained his boxers with precome.

Derek groaned at the feeling. Everytime he thought he had reached the peak of his arousal, Stiles managed to push him on a little further. He couldn't suppress the distressed expression on his face from all the sexual tension he had pent up. But he stood exactly where he was, true to his words that he would wait to hear what Stiles had to say.

He was finally looking at Derek, that red shade basically permanent on his face, neck and ears. "How about we just get this out of our systems? I mean, I jerked off thinking about you and now you look almost as if you're in pain, and that's my fault in a way. And then you helped me out tonight out there and – I feel like I've made use of your… image for my own selfish reasons enough times today. I just wanted to… I don't know… repay you. In some way."

Derek tried to process everything he had said, but was having a really hard time understanding where Stiles was going with this. "What exactly do you mean by "repay me"?"

"Well, you don't seem grossed out, so I guess that's a good thing." Stiles said relieved and bit his lip. "I'm not outright asking you to have sex with me, but we could do stuff related to it, you know, not that I would object to having sex either, it's just that I don't wanna force you into it if you don't want to, it would kinda be like when me and my friend Scott were younger and we started experimenting on each other, you know, it was like, this safe environment for the both of us, and we trusted each other, and I know you and I just met, but what I'm saying is that you can trust me, and… I'm gonna shut up now."

Derek had stopped listening after "we could do stuff related to it" and only caught a word or two out of the rest of Stiles' monologue. He was too busy debating with himself whether or not that was a good idea.

He was torn. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to fuck Stiles to death. Probably not the best choice of words, as he could _actually_ kill him without meaning to if he fucked him. He considered all the other options of "sex related stuff", as Stiles had put it, and got to the conclusion that he couldn't get to those and _not_ go all the way. And going all the way wasn't an option.

Stiles had no idea what Derek was or how dangerous it could be to a human to have sex with a Werewolf. And to hurt Stiles was something he couldn't afford to do. Not just because of Ethan's warning, but because he was genuinely starting to care about him.

But the boy was right, they had to get this whole thing out of their systems somehow. He let out a frustrated growl. There was only one thing they could do. "We can… masturbate. But you have to promise me something."

Stiles nodded, a confused expression on his face.

"This is extremely important, Stiles. We _cannot_ touch each other. Understand? And if I try to touch you, I want you to punch me in the face. As hard as you can. And I mean _as hard as you can_. I mean it. Punch me in the face. Got it? Say it."

Stiles saw how serious Derek was about this and he was grateful the boy didn't ask any questions. "I promise… to punch you in the face."

* * *

 **AN: Thank you to everyone who sent me the songs! You've helped A LOT! Keep them coming if you can think of any other. And let me know what you're thinking about the story too, you know? Not trying to beg for reviews, but kinda doing it hahah xD**


	5. Usual work break

Derek was left alone at the showers while Stiles went to lock the door that connected the club to the changing room. Although Derek knew that if anyone really wanted to get in, they would, he didn't see the point at arguing about it since Stiles was none the wiser about the existence of Werewolves. And he planned to keep it that way.

By the time he got back, Derek had his back turned at Stiles, because he wanted to avoid the certainly erotic sight of the boy taking his jeans off and the look on his face while Derek stripped off his own clothes. A look he was _so_ not imagining right now. He really couldn't picture how Stiles was just standing there awkwardly, uncertain of what to do next for the five seconds it took Derek to take his shirt off and unbuckle his belt.

He really wasn't. He was just listening and he knew Stiles hadn't really moved a muscle and that his heart was racing. 'Even a normal person with normal hearing would be able to tell, honestly. Right?' Derek tried to convince himself. Stiles would look down at his tight jeans now and toe off his black Converses shoes, all the while having a mix of nervousness and embarrassment for a face. A face that wasn't as clear on Derek's mind as it seemed, now that he was just staring at the wall. Yeah. He was pretty sure that the moment he turned around he would realize the face in his head had nothing to do with the real thing.

Then Stiles would take off the suspenders, letting them fall down but still keep them attached to his pants while Derek toed off his own shoes. And they would both take their pants off basically at the same time. But Stiles would almost lose his balance and fall down at the effort of pulling the tight tissue off. His hand slapping the wall for balance and the ruffling of the material were all Derek needed to deduce what had happened and to keep fueling his imagination.

Stiles was probably biting nervously at his lip now, trying his hardest to focus on getting his pants off in one piece and not on Derek's half naked back. Derek found himself mildly smiling at the boy's clumsiness and bent down to take off his socks, pick up his clothes and fold them neatly, giving Stiles the time he needed to finally get himself out of those pants.

When Derek finally turned around, Stiles had a bundle of clothes in one hand and his shoes in the other, but he'd followed Derek's lead and kept his still bulging underwear on. He refused to look anywhere but at the ground, and just turned around to put his clothes on one of the two shelves placed on each side of the door, where the boys usually kept their work soap bars and fresh towels.

While Derek had on white boxers, Stiles was wearing black ones. Derek admired the contrast with his pale skin as he followed to put his clothes next to the boy's, his thoughts already a mile per minute at all the marks he could leave on Stiles' neck, if only he could lick and suck on it. And on his shoulders, if only he could nip on them. And on his back, if only he could pin him to the wall and get his way with him. He let out a frustrated sigh that almost sounded like a growl.

"So. Nice tattoo." Stiles interrupted his thoughts. They were both standing next to each other facing the shelf that had Stiles' messy pile of clothes on one side and Derek's neat one on the other. Derek looked at him from the corner of his eyes, and wasn't surprised to see him blushing.

"Thanks. Get the soap." He ordered to Stiles as he took his boxers off, placed it next to his clothes and started towards the shower next to the one he knew the boy had used earlier. If he was being cautious, he would have chosen the shower completely opposite to the one Stiles was going to use. But he had already thrown cautious out the window the moment he suggested to accompany the boy back here. Cautious Derek was long gone, now replaced with a new version of himself he refused to accept existed: On The Edge Derek.

And On The Edge Derek wanted to be as close to Stiles as possible without touching him. He turned to the wall and turned on the water as the boy finally made it to the shower next to his, soap in one hand as the other got the water running for himself. Derek couldn't release the tap for ten long seconds as he took in the view of Stiles completely naked and now wet body standing beside him.

 _So_ close.

Derek could hear his own heart now pounding almost as fast paced as Stiles'. They were both standing side by side, bodies facing the wall in a silent agreement to just take some time to appreciate that warm feeling. The water ran down their skin, caressing and embracing, and Derek thought it made a reasonably good substitute for the warmth of Stiles' – ahem, _another_ body.

He looked at Stiles from the corner of his eyes, who had brought his hands up to smooth back some hair that was plastered to his forehead. He had his eyes closed, lashes looking amazingly thicker, lips slightly parted and skin turning a pinkish color wherever the steamy hot water would hit it first. Derek couldn't take his eyes off of him. The way the lean muscles on his abs were stretching, the contrast between his pale skin and his happy trail, how his hard cock would somewhat bob around at the movement.

He was beautiful. And Derek just really, really, really wanted to touch him.

All he had to do was stretch his arm. That's it. Just a stretch of his arm and he would be touching that pale, mole dotted, smooth skin. But then touching wouldn't be enough. Then, he would want to hold, to scratch, to rub, to pinch, to grasp. He would want to lose control. And he _couldn't_ do that. He belatedly realized that Stiles was ogling him too now, so he tried to gather himself.

"Just clean the wall first." He said after clearing his throat. The old smell of Stiles' semen was still teasing him, not to mention adding up to the boy's fresh scent of arousal.

"And your… head." He added, as Stiles gave a nervous laugh and moved to do as he was told. He didn't seem to mind the authoritarian tone Derek was using, or the fact that he was the one calling the shots. Somehow, giving orders to Stiles helped him keep control over himself. It gave him a sense of discipline, as if being able to pull the strings that moved the boy made Derek responsible for anything that happened to him. And he didn't want anything bad to happen. So as long as he was the one running things, he would keep his hands away from Stiles and therefore wouldn't have a chance to hurt him.

Glad to notice Stiles had washed away the scent from his earlier jerk off session, Derek decided it was time to get things started. The smell of Stiles' arousal, free of the thicker blend from his come, resulted in a harmonious interplay of citrusy, mossy and slightly leathery notes. It gave Derek a heady feeling of contentment – other than the wrecking _I-wanna-fuck-you-senseless_ feeling.

'But that will be over soon', he calmed himself, 'Soon, we're gonna start jerking off and I'm going to be in control throughout the whole process. Even when…' He mentally groaned. What about when Stiles start oozing precome? He couldn't be sure if he'd be able to restrain himself then!

"We should also use the soap to –" He started, not really sure how to finish the sentence.

"Help with lubrication? Yeah, it works a lot better than water. I was just… thinking about that." Stiles chimed in timidly.

'And smother down a bit of your scent.' Derek told himself, but gave Stiles a nod instead.

They reduced the water pressure so that it was just enough to keep them wet, but not too much that it would wash away the soap. Derek watched with hungry eyes as Stiles fixed his hair back again before biting his lower lip and start working the soap bar expertly between elegant hands. He looked overly focused, as if performing a very important task, Derek noticed. When his hands were finally coated on it, Stiles looked up to meet Derek's intent eyes on his.

Again, he blushed.

"You're nervous." Derek stated more than asked, offering a hand to ask for the soap. Stiles handed it to him.

"N – no." He answered anyway. Derek chuckled at his obvious lie. They were facing each other, and somehow during the soap exchange they had moved in closer, as the water ran mostly down their backs now. By Derek's calculations, if one of them gave half a step forward, the tip of their cocks could touch. This was as close as they were going to get. He took a deep breath and placed the soap on a soap holder.

"Can I ask… what do I smell like?" Stiles blurted out.

"I'll tell you if you're a good boy." He deadpanned. Although Stiles wasn't really aware of the torture he was putting Derek through with all this, he still resented him for it. In Derek's mind, the boy deserved _a lot_ of teasing and he was going to give it to him in any way he could. Anticipating the effect it was going to have on Stiles, he just went on to wrap both hands around his cock and start coating it in soap.

Stiles jaw immediately dropped at the sight of Derek jerking his hands up and down his cock at an agonizingly slow motion, as if he had no care in the world. He could almost see Stiles' hard on throb as he did it, because (of course) he had not taken his eyes off the boy.

"Wha – what am I, twelve? I'm eighteen, you know?" He blushed and came really close to pouting. Derek found it utterly amusing. Amusement being a rather sophisticated emotion, feeling it then gave Derek an extra push towards remaining one hundred percent rational. It was pretty controversial how now Stiles was helping him stay in control, although he still wasn't doing anything on purpose. It was sort of unnerving how the boy had so much power over Derek already, and he wasn't even aware of it.

"Stiles. I believe we have more pressing matters at hand. Well… at least _I_ do." He said as he intently spared a look down at their boners. How Derek wished he could touch Stiles'. "You should start taking care of that before –"

He paused before he had a chance to say just the stupidest thing. 'Before I decide to give you a hand? Really, Derek? Enough puns for today.' He cleared his throat and quickly added, "before someone decides to come check what's taking us so long."

"Right." Stiles breathed out, finally coating his cock in the special soap. That eased Derek's nerves immensely, just being certain that when things really heated up the soap would mostly neutralize the most intense scents. He dropped his left hand and set up a slightly _less slow_ pace going up and down his cock, never taking his eyes off of Stiles, who seemed to want to commit Derek's entire body to memory.

His eyes were everywhere. Mostly on his cock, but really, Stiles was taking his time to stare him up and down, his eyes burning with want and a hint of shame. He was clearly having an internal battle with himself.

"I'm sorry. I guess… I am nervous." Stiles told him, his hands moving in time with Derek's.

Derek knew he fit the world's general beauty standards. He knew that by those standards, he was attractive. People demonstrated that often, in the way they would treat him or throw themselves at him. He never really thought much about it, to be honest, that was just a fact in his everyday Hollywood life. People thought he was desirable not only because of his looks, but also because of his status as a successful and famous person.

But he never imagined this. People that never really met him in person getting turned on and even masturbating to his image. Seeing it right now, Stiles masturbating with that look in his eyes and getting to watch the whole thing was definitely one of the hottest experiences in his life. The whole idea was so obscene, yet so intimate. Hell, this was more intimate than sex. He wondered if Stiles felt the same way. If Derek's eyes on his skin were just as piercing as Stiles' were, making him feel a feather like touch wherever they wandered over. It made him shiver.

"No need to be. Just show me what you did earlier. I'm… curious. Walk me through the process." Did his voice always sound this rough? He couldn't bring himself to care, his brain thoroughly concentrated on that delightful feeling slowly starting to build up in his gut.

"Uh…" Stiles tried to stifle a little moan biting his lower lip. "Um, how?"

"How did it start?" Their voices were low over the constant murmur of the water running. If it weren't for their proximity and maybe the fact that Derek was a Werewolf, they wouldn't be able to hear each other.

"I was just telling my friends about… us bumping into each other this afternoon."

"And that made you hard?"

Stiles swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Why?" Derek knew he was pushing his luck, but making questions was his way of directing the course of events – and he just wanted to get as much out of Stiles as he could.

"Why do you think?" Stiles certainly wasn't having any of that, and Derek knew he should have known better. He caved.

"And then what?" Not that the rest of the story didn't seem just as interesting.

"They left. And I – I started thinking about you."

"Elaborate." He ordered more than suggested, the word provided from a deep, dangerous place inside his mind. They must have fastened their speed a bit at this point, because Stiles was now taking fairly deeper breaths and was more than happy to oblige.

"I imagined… things. Like, what it would feel like to have your hand around my cock." His voice faltered at the last word. Derek had to grip at his own member a little harder, just to make sure he didn't decide he wanted to satisfy to boy's curiosity. If Stiles noticed how much he was restraining himself, he gave no indication. His eyes just kept on wandering from Derek's body to his face and vice versa.

"How good it would feel if – ah… if you jerked me off." He kept going. "You would press your body against my back and wrap your arms around me to hold me in place." Stiles took a moment to wet his pink lips which had gone dry from his occasional panting.

"And?" Derek pressed on, impatient to hear the rest of the story. The soap was starting to dry, so he got a few drops of water on his cock to make it slippery again. Stiles did the same, face revelling with the sensation of his now much more slick member.

"And then you'd kiss, ahn – and nibble at the skin on my neck and shoulders." Stiles voice came out almost a hiss. Derek watched with burning eyes as he leaned his head forward to give the water more access to those same parts he'd just mentioned, eyes closed for the few seconds he remained in that position. Their hands were moving at a more disconnected speed now, with Stiles going a tiny bit faster.

Derek knew he was replaying the fantasy inside his head. Although he instantly missed the trail Stiles' wandering eyes had been leaving all over his skin, there was something about seeing him so connected to his own pleasure that was just as appealing to Derek's aroused mind. He really hated himself at that moment. For not being able to touch Stiles and make all his fantasies come true, even if to satisfy his own selfish needs. And for daring to want to touch the boy although he knew he had no right to, considering the risks that would carry to Stiles' life that the boy himself wasn't even aware of!

Derek knew that if Stiles had known, he would have never made that offer. But as twisted as it may sound, the guilt and self-hatred were all just adding up to his constantly raising dam of pleasure.

"Fuck." Escaped from Derek's mouth through gritted teeth and the hand around his cock picked up more speed. "Keep. Going." He all but growled out at a now panting Stiles. The fact that his words were for some reason sounding too close to growls set off an alarm in the back of his mind.

"I just, ah, arched my back, ah, the water slid down over my asshole and I – I'm really fucking close." Stiles whined out the last part. So was Derek. He was really fucking close to coming, to turning _and_ to crossing the line that he had drawn to _not_ touch Stiles.

"Turn around. Show me." Derek barely managed to say. He knew his eyes would turn blue any second now. Stiles didn't hesitate, immediately understanding his request, and the last thing still human Derek saw before the boy obliged was him desperately pumping his cock, with a desperate look on his face. Derek really couldn't think of a word other than 'desperate' to describe him.

Actually, he just couldn't think _at all_.

If he could, he wouldn't have lunged himself forward, pushing Stiles closer to the wall and out of the running water's reach.

Suddenly there was so much going on. Derek was too aware of the warmth of Stiles' tense and arched back muscles against his torso, at the same time that he knew his eyes were shifting to a bright blue color.

Then there was the exhilarating smell of the first drops of cum as the boy buckled his hips forward with every wave of pleasure that hit him, just as Derek's nails and teeth turned into claws and fangs, elongating inhumanly fast.

At the same time that his hair thickened and grew out covering more of his skin, came the groaning and panting that slipped out the boy's mouth in between moaned words that sounded a lot like "Derek", and the wolf registered in some dark corner of his mind that it was the first time Stiles called him by his first name.

His cock throbbed in his hand at the feeling of its tip rubbing against Stiles' clenching entrance, ass cheeks held open by the boy's hand. Derek's whole body stiffened and time seemed to stop for an agonizing millisecond.

Until the dam broke.

Derek found his release just as the shift was completed. Derek had never felt so _liberated_. He was grunting and groaning, pumping his member furiously, fucking into his hand like he wanted to fuck the boy and the very first spurt of his cum hit Stiles right in between the ass cheeks. But before Derek could process anything that wasn't his bursting orgasm, the boy's legs gave in and he was on his knees, forehead and both hands on the wall for support as he gasped for air.

On his way down, spurts of cum hit him over his back, on one of his shoulders and Derek made a point of getting the last, shorter spurts at the back of his neck and wet hair. He couldn't help it. He wanted Stiles to smell of him. Even if just for a few seconds, he wanted to feel what it would be like if Stiles were _his_.

The boy didn't seem to mind that Derek had come all over him. But then again, he had no idea how much scenting was related to claiming amongst Werewolves. And right now, having him smell of Derek's cum was highly satisfying to his fogged, mostly primitive wolf mind. So satisfying it was soothing, and it started guiding him back to human form. Nails, teeth, fur, eyes. Everything back to "normal" by the time he got down on his knees, to check on Stiles, who hadn't really moved since he fell down –thank God! The boy was still panting a little.

Derek was spent too, so he didn't really restrain from wrapping his arms around Stiles and gluing their bodies together. He skimmed his hands over the boy's chest, sure that his wolf wasn't coming out again anytime soon. Plus, it was so hard not to cuddle, when he smelled like… he was Derek's. Stiles let out a contented sigh at the feeling of skin against skin and Derek felt more than listened to the boy's steadying heartbeat against his own.

"So this is how you got your own cum on your forehead." Derek whispered as he nuzzled into Stiles neck.

He huffed out a tired chuckle. "Hey, it's the third time I jerk off in one day, cut me some slack here." Derek didn't have anything to say to that, so he just lapped at the spot behind Stiles' ear, going with the flow of his cuddly feels.

"So we're allowed to touch each other now?" Stiles said, giving Derek more access to his neck.

Derek interrupted the lapping on Stiles' neck just to give him a half-heartedly insulted "no", before going back at it again.

Stiles chuckled, making Derek's arms around him quiver slightly with the movement of his chest. "You know, you look so serious and annoyed all the time, but you're just a big puppy, Derek. It's adorable, really."

Those words served as a great wake up call, because Derek immediately stopped his cuddling and lapping and gave the back of Stiles' head a quick death glare before getting up. It was totally ineffective of course, since the boy wasn't even looking at him, but the urge to glare at people had always been a part of Derek's nature that he valued.

"Come on, we gotta shower." He said, helping Stiles up, who let out a soft grunt in protest. Derek could see he was still a bit weak in the knees, so they just shared the same shower so that Stiles could hold on to him as he washed away all evidence of their activities from the boy's body.

But really, what was he thinking acting like a freaking dog, with all the cuddling and licking? He might as well just have turned in front of Stiles since the beginning, since he was so eagerly providing him with a bunch of clues about what he is. He sighed. He had to be more careful.

It was hard for Derek not to feel a tinge of disappointment as his scent was slowly washed away by the soap, replaced with a warm subtle woody scent that he was learning is natural from Stiles' skin when he's in a neutral mood.

Seriously, though, Derek had to stop categorizing all of his scents. The list of things he had to stop doing around Stiles was somehow getting longer and longer.

"You promised." Stiles said in a tired voice, as Derek spread the soap over both his arms. "I was a good boy. Now tell me what I smell like."

"Actually, _you_ promised to punch me in the face if I touched you, and I still don't see you doing that. So no, you weren't a good boy." Derek answered matter-of-factly.

"Well, if you're so keen on it, I can still punch you now."

Derek just glared at him. "Here." He said twirling the soap between both hands before handing it to Stiles. "You finish cleaning up, I'm gonna wash the wall. We don't have all night."

Ok, so he was brooding because Stiles didn't smell like him anymore.

"I'm sorry, ok? It's just… I didn't mind it that you were touching me, you know? There was other stuff going on in my mind at that moment, believe me… or nothing at all." He stopped to think for a second. "Yeap, if I had to describe it, I'd say my mind was completely blank. But you obviously –"

"Stiles." Derek said stealing the soap from his hand. "Go get dressed, you're good to go." He really was, Derek was the only one that still smelled of anything remotely related to sex. Even the wall just smelled of... cold tiles.

"Oh, ok. Thanks for the… help." He ran his hands through his hair one last time before getting out of the shower, sparing an appreciative look at Derek's abs that didn't go unnoticed and heading to the changing room. Derek couldn't help the small smile that pulled up his lips as he started showering.

He was done in less than two minutes. He dried himself up with one of the clean towels he found next to his pile of clothes and was about to start getting dressed when something caught his attention. He was annoyed to notice that he had stained his only underwear with precum earlier. It wasn't much, but he knew he couldn't wear it again that night, not if he was going back to the club. Which he was, thanks to his pervert of an uncle. And any Werewolf out there would be able to smell it on him.

He would have to go commando.

He put his boxers aside with a huff and started getting dressed, all the while mentally calling Peter the worst names he could think of. He wished he could just go home. And maybe even take Stiles with him…

No. He was becoming too familiar with the boy already – a human of all things. Familiarity is _not_ good. Familiarity creates attachment, and attachment creates feelings. And feelings, well, it's all downhill from there.

The clear of a throat interrupted his thoughts, followed by Stiles' voice.

"I'm basically ready. You ready?"

"No. I need a favor." He cut to the chase, heading into the changing room to sit down on the bench close to Stiles. Derek just needed to put on his shoes. "And a blow drier."

"Right. No worries, what happens in the showers, stay in the showers." Stiles joked as he got up. He got a duffle bag and took a blow drier out of it, handing it to Derek.

"Thanks." He said picking it up with one hand as the other held up his bundled up underwear to Stiles. "Can you keep this in your bag for me? I'll come and get it at the end of your shift." Stiles' eyebrows just shot up, remaining like that for a full five seconds, eyes blinking before he reacted in any way.

"O… K. Right." He picked it up gently from Derek, blushing lightly. "Sorry, I'd offer you some clean underwear, but I only had one spare change. I could wash it and give it back to you tomorrow. Or something. I mean, it's kinda my fault that this," he stopped to point a finger at it, "happened." He laughed nervously.

"It's ok. Not your fault. You didn't mean to." Derek got up to find the closest plug for the blow drier. It was just better if no one knew he had taken a shower too, hence why he needed to dry his hair.

"Yeah… what if I did?" Derek didn't have to look at Stiles to know he was watching him carefully and that he had an annoying smirk plastered on his face. Derek just didn't get it. One moment Stiles is all manners, rambling, and blushing cheeks, and the next he's this fiery little tease, dissecting every little reaction he gets out of Derek as if taking mental notes for a freaking index on his sexual response.

He chuckled and shook his head as he turned the blow drier on, deciding not to fuel this conversation any longer. He hoped the noise and his lack of an answer were as clear a message as the implicit "shut up" he never said.

* * *

 **AN:** So! Basically a whole chapter of smut and cuddling :D this took me forever to write, I know, and I'M SORRY for the long wait, but university got the best of me and I've been having some writer's block (feeling all high and mighty calling myself a writer ahaha). It's just that I wanted it to be at the very least of _decent_ quality, because YOU DESERVE IT! So I made it longer than usual to make up for the wait, and I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think! Were you expecting Stiles and Derek to bang each other already? You were, weren't you? *smirks*

Please somebody tell me I'm not the only one obsessing over Dylan O'brien and his annoyingly sexy, pink lips. I mean, SERIOUSLY. STOP LICKING AND BITING ON THEM! Argh.


	6. Good idea?

"Finally, you're home!" Came Scott's worried voice the moment Stiles stepped into their apartment.

"You look ok. Are you ok?" Isaac said immediately after. By the looks of it, they had both been waiting on the couch for Stiles to get home. Now they were very much standing, hovering over Stiles by the door. He barely managed to close it from how close they were standing, observing him carefully for any signs of weird humor vibes.

Stiles chuckled. "Oh my God, guys, relax. Should I start calling you both 'dad', now? I'm fine, I just stayed after hours to talk to Lupita, remember?" He said, dodging both boys and heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water. "And then Derek gave me a ride home."

"What did you expect, it's been an hour since we got home and no sign of you." Isaac defended himself as they followed after him.

"Yeah, you think we fancy telling the Sheriff that his only son's gone missing? And that the last time we saw him was at the freaking strip club we all work at that we agreed to lie about and say it was a cafeteria?" Scott protested.

"Wait a second. Derek gave you a ride home? How? Why?" Isaac said, a half surprised, half smug look on his face.

"Duh, on his car. The guy has a freaking Camaro, do you believe that? I don't, and I just rode on it. He just didn't want me to come back alone at this time. No biggie." Stiles answered, immediately taking a gulp out of his glass to try to shut up. He felt his face warm up and knew his cheeks were turning a light shade of pink, for the hundredth time that night.

"No biggie?" Scott let out a laugh. "No biggie? Look at you, all rosy cheeks and babbling mouth. You think we don't know you, Stiles? After all these years, you think we don't know you well enough to recognize the signs?"

"Signs? What signs?" Stiles tried to stall, heading towards the couch, Scott and Isaac right on his heels.

Isaac tsked, shaking his head. "You insult our observation skills, bro. Not cool." They plopped onto the couch, Stiles right in between the two interrogators who he once called friends – but not anymore.

"You know. _The_ sings." Scott smirked.

" _The_ signs." Isaac repeated, an ever bigger smirk on his face.

"The signs that you're embarrassed. You're doing that thing you do when you think you've done something wrong. Or naughty. Since it involves Derek-freaking-super-star-Hale, I'm aiming for naughty." Scott continued and Stiles let out a nervous laugh.

"Dude. Nothing happened during the ride, ok? We just talked. We talked and nothing happened. Nothing. _Nada_." Technically, that wasn't a lie. During the ride, they really had just talked. "I'm really tired and I'm gonna sleep now. Good n–" He tried to get up but was restrained by a hand on each one of his arms.

"Stiles, come on. You gotta give us something here. You can try to hide it all you want, but you know we're gonna get it out of you at one point or another." Isaac tried to reason with him.

"Look, you don't wanna give us the details, that's fine, just tell us what happened. We've been waiting all night for you to come home and this is how you repay us?" Scott gave him his best pleading puppy eyes. Ok, Stiles was starting to think he really was an ungrateful friend. This was the second time someone close to him asked him that question.

First Liam, after covering for him at the bar. Now, Scott and Isaac after worriedly waiting for him to come home. Frustrated, he freed his arms from their grasps with a quick pull.

"Ok, fine. I'll tell you. Why are you so focused on whatever happened with Derek, anyway? I had a pretty interesting conversation with Lupita too, you know, but no one's asking me anything about that." He said and gulped the rest of his water.

"So something did happen with Derek?" Isaac quirked an eyebrow, eliciting a frustrated groan from Stiles.

"Guys, I _really_ am tired. I'll tell you everything you want to know as soon as we wake up, just, _please_ , let me go to sleep." Stiles pleaded like the teenager who had jerked off three times in one day that he was. He was starting to get cranky.

"Deal." Isaac said.

"Wise choice, dear friend." Scott added. Both boys leaned forward and gave him a peck on their side of Stiles' cheek at the same time. A soft, affectionate smile on either one of their faces. He couldn't help but chuckle at their demonstration of affection.

"Night." They both said in unison, getting up to go to their respective rooms, leaving an exceptionally drained Stiles on the couch, still trying to wrap his mind around the events of this very unusual day.

* * *

 _The moment Stiles opened the door that led back into the club, he was greeted by the blasting sound of Pour Some Sugar on Me and felt slightly disoriented. He had never realized before how well isolated those walls were._

 _Blinking to adjust to the change in light, which was a lot dimmer inside the club, he let Derek pass and locked the door behind them, stuffing the key safely back into his jeans' front pocket._

 _They made their way back to the special table without saying a word. They hadn't really said much to each other ever since Stiles thought it was a nice idea to tease Derek about him meaning or not to turn Derek on._

 _'_ _Smooth, Stiles.' He ironically congratulated himself. As soon as Derek was done drying his hair, which took nothing more than about thirty seconds, he just said "let's go" and Stiles agreed._

 _As soon as Lupita and Peter caught a glimpse of Derek and Stiles reaching the table, they looked up to meet them with a scrutinizing look on their faces. While Peter's quickly turned into a predatory smile directed at Stiles, Lupita's lasted a lot longer and kept going from Derek to Stiles and vice-versa._

 _Derek took his place at the table and met her gaze with a blank one of his own, clearly ignoring his uncle._

 _"_ _Sorry for the wait, Lupita. Mr. Ha –" Stiles quickly corrected himself. "Peter."_

 _"_ _Oh, it's ok, my boy. How are you? Feeling better, I suppose?" The woman smiled warmly at him._

 _"_ _Yes. Much better, um." he spared a look at Derek. "Derek already clarified some of the questions I had about the incident." He said trying not to blush and hoping that by the extra information he was subtly supplying, Lupita and Peter would deduce that was the reason they had taken so long to come back. She nodded, as both her and Peter turned to look at Derek._

 _"_ _Of course he did. Derek's always happy to answer any question, especially those work-related, you know, during interviews. He loves it. Right, Derek?" Peter said overly cheerful. Much to Stiles amusement, Derek just rolled his eyes._

 _"_ _I know Stiles can be really stubborn when he wants to know something, Derek." Lupita said. "Once he wouldn't let go of the fact that every month the boys have one weekend off. Kept going on and on about how they really needed the money. He wouldn't let go of the matter until I told him why we couldn't open." She smiled at the memory. "That's how Stiles found out I work as a veterinarian during the day."_

 _Peter laughed loudly. "You didn't! You told him?"_

 _"_ _Oh, you should have seen his face. He couldn't believe I had a life outside the club. He wasn't sure whether to call me Lupita or Dr. Deaton for that whole weekend." She said, amusement clear on her face._

 _"_ _Wait a second, they know?" Taken aback, Stiles couldn't hide the surprised tone in his voice._

 _"_ _Of course they know, dear boy. The Hales and I go way back, and it's not like it's a secret. But really, working at the clinic during the day and opening the club all night from Thursday to Saturday, I deserve one weekend off. There's just so much I can take."_

 _"_ _It's just that I thought you'd look like this 24/7, Lupi, I still can't picture you in a lifeless white coat, no make-up and treating sick or hurt little animals." Stiles tried to explain himself._

 _"_ _I treat all kinds of animals, sweetie, not just the little ones." Lupita said, exchanging a quick look with Peter. These two probably had a lot of internal jokes, if they'd known each other that long. "But anyways. Could you bring me a glass of water? Do you boys want anything?"_

 _"_ _Make it two." Derek said, speaking for the first time since they'd got back._

 _"_ _Nonsense. Two Jack Daniels on the rocks, Stiles. I'm trying to teach Derek how to have fun, help me out here." Peter said, before Stiles could go anywhere. 'Oh, I think he knows how to have fun, all right.' He thought, instantly replaying their little shower session in his head._

 _"_ _I'm not drinking it, but there's no point in arguing with Peter. Just remember my glass of water." Derek interjected. Peter opened his mouth to say something, but Stiles beat him to it with a quick "okie dokie" and left without looking back before the discussion dragged on and on._

 _Really he was just hoping to occupy himself with basically anything at all that would make the nice feeling of Derek's sculpted, warm body flushed against his back stop seeping into his brain and messing with his thoughts._

 _By the time he got back with the drinks, after some teasing commentaries from the boys at the bar, what seemed to be a very intense conversation between his boss and her guests immediately ceased as Stiles approached them._

 _They were all leaning very close to each other, which one could argue was because of the relatively loud music. But the quick change in their demeanors when Stiles got too close to ear-shot told him whatever it was they were talking about was most likely none of his business._

 _"_ _Thank you, Stiles. You can go back to the bar for now. I'll let you know if we need anything else." Lupi dismissed him. Definitely none of his business._

 _The rest of the night went by uneventfully. Stiles wasn't called back to the table, which was unusual, but he figured it had something to do with whatever secret talk they were having. And he had plenty to think about already to be wondering about his boss' unusual behavior._

 _While he served people at the bar and watched with slight amusement as his friends practiced the art of seduction on some very entertained customers, Stiles couldn't help but notice the intensity of the men's gazes watching carefully their toned bodies as they moved. He immediately recognized it as the same one Derek was giving him at the showers._

 _The same_ he _had definitely given Derek. That gaze that made him feel fully exposed, and still no matter how much it embarrassed him to think back at it now, he just couldn't have moved. He couldn't have brought himself to cover his body in any way. He didn't want to escape it. Not for a second did he even consider putting a stop to the description of all the obscenities he had fantasized about with the man._

 _Most of all, Derek didn't make Stiles do all that. He made him_ want _to. And that was a side of himself he didn't know he had. What he experienced with Derek was so much different than it had been when experimenting with Scott. Scott was his best friend and he was obviously attractive, but they'd never even considered being anything more than that: friends._

 _When they reached that sex-crazed hormonal peak during puberty that's pretty much how it all started – thanks to a sleepover combined with unsupervised underage drinking. They were mostly just messing around and trying to release some pent up sexual tension, though, since for the longest time they weren't getting any in high school._

 _But there were never watchful, lustful eyes. Just wet kisses and groping hands._

 _And then there was Derek._

 _Derek's beautiful green eyes staring at him like that. Stiles couldn't possibly be that desirable. This is Derek fucking Hale we're talking about here, there's no way in hell Stiles had a chance with him. It was probably just the smell of his cum or whatever that had Derek too turned on, so it made him see Stiles under a much more appealing light than usual._

 _Why was he even putting the words "Derek" and "chance" in the same phrase? That was the most far-fetched thing he could possibly imagine. It was like believing in the possibility of time traveling, or in the existence of werewolves, for God's sake. And Stiles knew all too well those were nothing but legends._

 _Just like the idea of him having a chance with Derek Hale in this or any universe, for that matter. There was no way. He would just have to satisfy himself with the memory of that shower, because he was pretty sure that was all he was ever getting from the man._

 _Although… he did come to his rescue earlier._ And _offered to accompany him to the showers. What was that about protecting Stiles, anyway? What did he need protection from? Those were questions already on his mental List of Things to Ask Lupi._

 _Not to mention, Derek and Ethan moved super-fast. One moment Stiles was being restrained by the neck and the next they were standing there. And Peter's face like he could get every word the group was exchanging, even though from where he was sitting that wouldn't have been possible._

 _Maybe the Lupita's Sanctuary was a more high-profile strip club than people gave it credit for, because if Stiles' experience tonight was any indication, everyone seemed to have at least one supernatural ability – other than an acute sense of smell, there was also super hearing and speed. So, yeah. Weird._

 _"_ _Earth to Stiles." Lupi's voice interrupted his thoughts. How long had she been calling his name?_

 _"_ _Oh! Sorry, Lupi. You were saying?"_

 _She laughed. "When the night's over, come to my office, okay? We should talk about what happened earlier."_

 _"_ _Sure." He replied, not sure if by 'earlier' she meant just when the crazy customer grabbed him by the neck or if by any chance she had deduced something happened in the showers._

 _He looked over at the table where Derek and Peter were still sitting while Lupi made her way back. He chuckled at the face of an unimpressed Derek as his uncle got a lap dance from none other than Isaac. Peter kept turning to his nephew, apparently complimenting Isaac's moves and body enthusiastically, like the creepy uncle he clearly was._

 _Because who wouldn't want to hear their uncle talking about the sexy bits of a random stripper? Exactly. He kept on observing the Hale guests the rest of the night, a bit disappointed that not even once did Derek's gaze turned to look his way, unlike Peter's, who kept busting him staring at his nephew. Derek just focused on talking to Lupita for the whole night._

 _When they finally closed for the night at the usual time – 4am – Stiles washed and cleaned with his friends everything at the bar as fast as he could. Peter had left around 3:30am, not looking very happy to go home. But that didn't stop him from giving Stiles a wink on his way to the door._

 _Derek, on the other hand, accompanied Lupita to her office and hadn't left. That is, unless he'd jumped out of the window, but Stiles wasn't really considering that an option._

 _He couldn't wait to go talk to Lupita. He'd never felt so tired after work as he did tonight, but just the thought of getting to exchange a few words with Derek again, even if just for a small amount of time, got him all excited and fuzzy like a love-sick teenager._

 _As soon as he was done with his part of the cleaning, he put his own clothes back on and told his friends to take his beloved jeep home with them, after explaining that he had to talk to Lupi. He rushed to her office, duffel bag on one shoulder._

 _"_ _Come in." Came Lupita's voice after he knocked nervously on the wooden door._

 _"_ _Hey." He looked shyly from his boss, who was sitting behind her desk, to Derek, who had a blank mask for a face. His heart fluttered inside his chest as he closed the door behind him._

 _"_ _Sit down, dear." Lupita waved her hand at the seat next to Derek. "I know Derek was kind enough to answer some of your questions already, but there are some other things I would like to clarify myself."_

 _Stiles nodded in agreement, but started to wonder why Derek had stayed behind just for this. Not that he was complaining._

 _"_ _First of all, I wanted to apologize again for the incident, Stiles. I want you to know your life was never in any real danger. Believe me when I say, the safety of my employees always comes first, and I would never put any of your lives at risk." She told him warmly._

 _"_ _I know. Don't worry, it was my fault, Lupi. I just… wasn't thinking. I'm sorry for the trouble I caused you tonight." Stiles replied. He meant it too._

 _"_ _It wasn't your fault." Derek remarked. Before Stiles could protest, he added, "You were almost raped, Stiles. Being raped is not something you do to yourself. It's not a mistake you make. It's not a lapse in your judgment. You weren't asking for it. You could've been walking around_ naked _, that still wouldn't give anyone the right to do that."_

 _"_ _Derek's right. And as he told you already, most of our customers are very sensitive to smell. The mandatory shower with the special soap I gave all of you is a precaution for this extraordinary circumstance. I never thought of explaining it before because it was never necessary. But as it has become a matter of safety, I will provide the rest of the staff tomorrow with the same information I'm giving you now."_

 _She opened her mouth to continue when a knock interrupted her. The door opened without waiting for a response, to reveal a slightly annoyed Aiden._

 _"_ _Special Asshole Argent is here. Wants to talk to you now. Please let him in before I can't refrain from ripping a federal agent's guts out." He ground out._

 _Stiles didn't know what confused him the most, the fact that there was a federal agent outside who apparently had something urgent to talk to Lupita or the fact that Aiden had just threatened to kill him in a very violent way aloud. Not a smart move, if anyone asked him._

 _"_ _Well, it took him long enough. Let him in. Thank you, Aiden." The boy opened the door further and gave way to a tall, blue-eyed man, who Stiles supposed should be around his mid-forties. He gave off this heavy vibe of determination and "badassness"._

 _Stiles made to stand up, sure that whatever Lupita had to tell him would have to wait now that she clearly had more important issues to discuss, when he heard the click of the door closing and the man calmly saying "Sit down, son."_

 _"_ _Mr. Argent, thank you for coming."_

 _"_ _Lupita. Derek." He came closer to the group, nodding at them and stopping on Stiles' right. "And you are?" He looked at Stiles' wide eyes._

 _"_ _I…was just leaving." The man lifted a brow at him. "Sir." Stiles gulped._

 _He didn't know why the hell there was a federal agent here and, honestly, he didn't want to find out. Something told him it had something to do with him and that couldn't be good. If he'd got into any kind of trouble, the federal kind no less, his dad would freak out!_

 _"_ _This is Stiles." Derek answered for him, reaching out to lightly touch his arm in a comforting act. He gave it a squeeze and quickly let go, but Stiles got the message: 'it's okay'. He wasn't sure if he believed it, though._

 _"_ _Stiles, dear. This is Special Agent Argent with the FBI. I was obliged by law to report tonight's incident. This is a serious establishment and like I said, I care for my employee's safety. He's here to take your statement and to verify that you were not harmed in any way."_

 _Stile couldn't contain a nervous laugh. "Obliged by law? What are you talking about, there's no such thing." The fact that they were all acting like this was the most normal thing in the world was freaking him out. He tried to make sense out of whatever was going on._

 _"_ _Honestly, why would even call the FBI? If you had to call someone, you could've called the police, you know? And still, I don't wanna press charges. Can we just put this behind us? I just want to go home."_

 _"_ _Stiles, relax." He felt Derek's warm hand on his forearm again, only this time it lingered._

 _"_ _I'm relaxed. I'm totally zen. I'm so relaxed I feel like I'm lying on the beach in Fiji! That's how relaxed I am. But I'm also tired and_ this _is not making any sense. I mean, first, there's the super speed. But okay, you and Ethan_ definitely _work out a lot, so that would explain why you got there so fast when Deucalion decided to make me his boy toy."_

 _His voice was reaching a high-pitch tone with every word he said._

 _"_ _But then your creepy uncle looks like he just heard everything from where he was sitting even though that couldn't've been possible. And lastly, you tell me that Deucalion has a super sensitive nose, which apparently is common to basically all of Lupita's customers!"_

 _The group was exchanging meaningful looks between them, but they didn't have time to try to shut him up, because he kept going._

 _"_ _And to top it all up, Lupi calls the FBI simply because I_ almost _got raped! The more I look at it, the more I confirm my theory about the government experiment, and the super soldier spies, and now this guy's here to kill me because I know too much!"_

 _He finished meaningfully pointing at Mr. Argent._

 _"_ _Hey. No one's going to kill you." Derek told him firmly. Stiles' damn brain decided to play a trick on him then, because for a split-second he saw Derek's eyes flicker from their usual dark green to a bright blue color that disappeared in the blink of an eye. His or Derek's, he wasn't sure which._

 _No one else seemed to notice since Mr. Argent and Lupita had started arguing._

 _"_ _See, this is why I said this wasn't a good idea!" Mr. Argent said angrily. "You can't bring h – outsiders to work here. At a strip club, of all places! It's dangerous and they're not ready to face this. How long until someone really gets hurt, Lupita, huh?"_

 _"_ _Keep your voice down, Mr. Argent." Lupita answered harshly. "The Council has made its decision. They're allowed to be here if they want to, as long as all the rules are being followed and precautions are being taken. Which, they are. I have called you here and I am reporting the incident to you, aren't I?"_

 _"_ _Council? What Council? What on Earth are you two talking about?" Stiles tried to ask but was ignored as Mr. Argent spoke over him._

 _"_ _Right. If they want to. Do you know why they want to? Because they don't know the risks. They don't know what it means. They don't know_ anything _!"_

 _Stiles looked to Derek for answers, but the man just looked tense, like trying to keep his calm or something._

 _"_ _They'll know when the time is right."_

 _Mr. Argent scoffed. "If they survive until then."_

 _"_ _I don't make the rules, Mr. Argent."_

 _"_ _But you sure as hell don't complain about them."_

 _"_ _Enough!" Derek bellowed at them, yanking his hand from where it was resting on Stiles' forearm and turning it into a fist. They both took a deep resigning breath and Stiles could feel the tension slipping away for the time being._

 _Lupita turned to look at Stiles._

 _"_ _Stiles, as I was saying before Mr. Argent got here, there are some things I still need to clarify. I understand you're very tired, I'll be quick so you can go home. First of all, no one's going to kill you. Second of all, forget about the government. Yes, my clientele is... unusual. You could say that because of their abilities they're a very tight-knit community."_

 _Stiles listened carefully to every word, his mind trying (but mostly failing) to process everything Lupita was telling him._

 _"_ _The Council is a selected group of individuals that make the rules and enforce them. It's a way of keeping track of all the members of the community and of the decisions that concern them. Very few… normal people are allowed a glimpse of their way of living. That's all you need to know on this matter for now, okay?"_

 _He nodded in agreement, but couldn't wipe off the surprised look on his face. That was a lot of information, a lot of what seemed to be_ secret _information. Tight-knit community? Council? Everything was dangerously starting to sound like Illuminati shit._

 _Stiles had no idea what he was supposed to be thinking or feeling about the fact that his greatest crush of all times could potentially be a member of a secret society, so he just stared at Lupita as she continued._

 _"_ _As of Deucalion, he'll have to face the consequences of his actions whether you want to press charges or not. That's simply how their community works. He shouldn't have come here tonight, those are the rules. If he hadn't been in that condition in the first place, things wouldn't have escalated as they did, no matter what you smelled of."_

 _He blushed as he realized his boss was referring to what he had done before work in the showers. He really wished she hadn't heard about that, but oh, well… too late._

 _"_ _What do you mean 'that condition'? What condition?"_

 _"_ _That's all I can tell you for now, Stiles. I hope you understand."_

 _Stiles stared at all three faces around him. From Lupita's serious but warm eyes, to the annoyance on Mr. Argent's scrunched up mouth and finally at the low gaze and furrowed brows Derek wore._

 _"_ _Can I go?" he asked quietly to no one in particular._

 _"_ _Yes." Lupita answered._

 _He got up to leave and Derek did the same. As soon as they were out the door, the man spoke gently._

 _"_ _Come on, I'll take you home."_

 _"_ _I'll just take the bus." He started to walk towards the exit._

 _"_ _No. You're not. I'm taking you home." Derek followed him, irritated._

 _"_ _Go home, Mr. Hale. I'm a big boy, I think I can survive a bus ride home." Stiles wasn't really sure where all this stubbornness was coming from. Maybe from the fact that he just felt even more confused now than when there was a hand around his neck and a dick poking his ass._

 _The man looked confused at hearing his last name. They had stepped outside of the club already, the chilling night air prickling their skin. Derek held Stiles by the arm, turning him around and pulling him close, barely holding in his annoyance as he invaded Stiles private space._

 _"_ _If you take the bus I'll just follow you in my car. Lupita asked me to accompany you and I'm keeping my word whether you like it or not."_

 _Stiles huffed out a breath. "What do you care, honestly? I_ really _need to clear my head right now and I don't see how being closed in a car with you is gonna help."_

 _"_ _I don't care. You either come or you don't, but I'll be right behind the bus if you don't. If making me look like a freaking stalker makes you feel better, then suit yourself."_

 _He let go of the boy's arm then and stormed out to a near-by parking spot that contained a black Camaro. He got into the driver's seat and banged the door closed. Stiles just stared dumb folded._

 _Okay, so what if he'd always wanted to ride in a Camaro? He really should just take the bus. He was going to. A minute ago, he was sure he would. But before he could stop himself he was getting into the passenger's seat and admittedly pouting at his own weakness of mind._

 _"_ _Do you live at that street near campus where I bumped into you?" Derek asked quietly._

 _He nodded._

 _The drive was silent for a while as they passed mostly empty streets at this early hour. The sky was starting to brighten as the sun slowly came up. Stiles thought about opening the window on his side but wasn't sure if Derek maybe had a reason not to, since he hadn't made a move to open them himself._

 _He wasn't sure how this sensitivity to smell really worked, if maybe there was something about the air outside that he didn't want to smell… or if there was something about the air inside that he didn't want to miss. He chanced a look at the man's face and couldn't take the silence anymore._

 _"_ _What are you thinking about?"_

 _The man didn't look surprised by his random question._

 _"_ _Nothing in particular."_

 _"_ _You're one of them, huh?"_

 _"_ _What if I am?" Derek's eyes never leaving the road._

 _"_ _What_ exactly _are you?" He had to ask._

 _"_ _What do you care, honestly?" The irony of his own words being used against him not lost to Stiles. He took a deep breath._

 _"_ _Look, I'm sorry if I acted like a brat. You would too if you were me. I almost got raped and now I'm even more confused than I was when I had a hand around my neck and a hard dick poking my ass, for Christ's sake."_

 _Derek's hand tightened around the wheel._

 _"_ _I understand that. But you have to understand that you're a lot safer not knowing anything about us."_

 _Stiles turned to look out the window, unconvinced by Derek's argument, but not too tired to muster up the energy to explain why that was just stupid. He was never too tired to call someone on their bullshit._

 _"_ _You know that's usually how characters in stories tend to get a lot more curious about whatever it is they're not supposed to know and get into even more trouble than they would have if they'd just had that information from the beginning, right?"_

 _As expected, no reaction from Derek. Annoyed, Stiles thought to himself, 'fine, let's bring out the big guns.'_

 _"_ _I saw your eyes change."_

 _Derek turned to look at him for the first time since they'd got into the car, his trademark blank expression in place, but_ still _said nothing. The next question got stuck in Stiles throat and he couldn't bring himself to pronounce the words swirling around his head: 'are you human?'_

 _Instead, he went for, "you don't have to tell me if you can't. I get it. But like I said, you can trust me."_

 _"_ _I know." Derek told him. A minute passed before he spoke again. "I wouldn't have asked you to keep my underwear if I didn't."_

 _Stiles huffed out a laugh at Derek's attempt to lighten up the mood, but couldn't help the embarrassment low in his gut as memories of their shower together flooded his mind._

 _He was grateful for the change in subject though, because the Camaro was coming to a halt at the now familiar street and he didn't want to leave this gorgeous man with a gloomy last impression. That wasn't like him._

 _"_ _I'll protect it with my life." He chanced a determinate look at Derek, who chuckled._

 _"_ _You've done more than enough, I can take it from here."_

 _"_ _No way, the least I can do is wash it, okay? I can give it back to you in a couple of days. How long are you staying in town?" Stiles prayed this wasn't a too lame excuse to see Derek again._

 _"_ _At least another three weeks, but –"_

 _"_ _Great! So it shouldn't be a problem. Here, gimme your number" he hastily pulled out his phone and handed it to Derek, "and I'll let you know once it's clean."_

 _Derek hesitated and looked from the phone in his hand to the probably too expectant look on Stiles' face. He knew from Derek's pursed lips that the man was debating with himself if any of that was a good idea._

 _It probably wasn't._

 _But no matter what conclusion he got to inside his head, Stiles watched as he typed in the numbers anyway._

* * *

 **AN:** As you probably noticed I get longer chapters out when I take longer to update, so I hope that makes up for the wait! ^^

Was it clear enough that the whole part in _italic_ was a flashback? Never wrote one before, hope everyone got that!

Also, I have a damn exam on Wendnesday and I shouldn't even be updating but I just wanted to write so much! Wish me luck and drop me a review to let me know what you're thinking! Pretty pleeeeeaaase :3 I REALLY appreciate your thoughts and comments, whatever they are *¬*


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